The Beginning of the End
by amhalgaidh-wolfegurl
Summary: Third and final installment of the KateAngela LXG fanfics! What happens when two FallenAngels who happen to be sisters have to work together to save a friend from disaster? Especially when the Devil's involved in it...
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not now, nor will I ever, own any characters, items, or ideas relating to LXG or the hit Broadway Gothic Musical, _Jekyll & Hyde_.

_

* * *

__Prologue:_

From within a tomb of ice, a lonely and sad voice sang:

_A new life_

_What I wouldn't give_

_To have a new life!_

_One thing I have learned_

_As I go through life_

_Nothing is for free_

_Along the way._

_A new start_

_That's the thing I need_

_To give me new heart_

_Half a chance in life_

_To find a new part_

_Just a simple role_

_That I can play._

_A new hope._

_Something to convince me_

_To renew hope._

_A new day_

_Bright enough_

_To help me find my way._

_A new chance_

_One that maybe has_

_A touch of romance._

_Where can it be?_

_The chance for me?_

_A new dream._

_I have one_

_I know that very few dream._

_I would like to see_

_That overdue dream_

_Even though_

_It never may come true._

_A new love_

_Though I know_

_There's no such thing_

_As true love_

_Even so,_

_Although I never knew love,_

_Still I feel_

_That one dream is my due!_

_A new world_

_This one thing_

_I want to ask of you, world_

_Once—before it's time_

_To say adieu, world_

_One sweet chance_

_To prove the cynics wrong!_

_A new life_

_More and more I'm sure,_

_As I go through life,_

_Just to play the game_

_And to pursue life_

_Just to share its pleasures_

_And belong_

_That's why I've been here for_

_All along_

_Each day's a brand new life!_

…


	2. Chapter I

_Chapter One:_

"Angela, you have a visitor," Mina said, passing Angela's open door. "He's on the upper deck."

Knowing the only person it could be, Angela said, "Thank you, Mina." She closed her journal and returned her pen to its resting place. Turning out the lights, she left her quarters and closed the door behind her. She made her way to the upper deck and found the Archangel Gabriel standing on the railing. "You know, just because you're an Angel, it doesn't mean you can do stuff like that whenever you feel like it." He didn't answer. "Gabriel."

"It's funny, Angel," he said softly. "Black becomes you." He stepped off the railing and faced her. "Your sister Fell several years ago, Angel. She's been living with the Mortals since 1874. Under the name of Kate Bennet."

Angela growled and hit the side of the _Nautilus_ with a clenched fist. "I _knew_ it!" she hissed. "I knew she must've done something like this! That treacherous viper! Who does she think she is?"

"Apparently, she thinks she is Kate Bennet, Angel," Gabriel said lightly. "If you need anything, simply send for me." He nodded to her, then flew away.

"Oh, you're a riot, Gabriel," Angela muttered. Then she hit the side of the _Nautilus_ again, creating a bit of a dent in the metal. "I need to find her." She disappeared inside the ship and went to find Nemo. She found him on the deck. "Captain, I have a request."

"Yes, Miss Angela?" he asked.

"Do you think we could go to Mongolia?" she asked sweetly. "I believe we may be able to sooth Mr. Skinner's anguish there."

Nemo nodded. "But, Miss Angela," he said. "He could not rescue her from the ice before. How will he be able to do so now?"

"Last time he didn't have a FallenAngel to help him," she said, knowing full well that he really did and she didn't want to be saved. "Please? I hate to see him so sulky."

"Very well," he said.

"Thank you, Captain," she said, smiling, then left. As she returned to her quarters, she passed Jekyll who look like he was in pain. "Dr. Jekyll, are you all right?"

"I wish I knew," he said, wiping his brow with his handkerchief. "I've been feeling rather under the weather since we returned from Transylvania. I can't explain it."

Angela placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It could be that your emotions could still be suffering from some trauma from losing your wife, then regaining her almost immediately," she said, still playing the Guardian Angel part. She wasn't quite used to being Fallen yet. "Perhaps you should go lie down. I can send someone to get you some tea, if you'd like."

"Thank you, no," he said, the handkerchief out once again. "I think I simply need some time on land. Thank you, though, Angela. Sawyer was looking for you earlier, by the way."

She smiled at the ill-looking doctor. "Thank you," she said, then continued down the corridor.

* * *

Kate sat in the frozen-over cave and hummed to herself as she struggled to keep her pathetic little fire burning. She wanted out of the snow and ice like she never wanted anything before. As her fire finally died, she heard a sickening _crack_ in the ice. She stood quickly and looked around. The cracking noises were coming from the mouth of the cave. As she slowly approached the cave mouth, the ice sealing her inside suddenly shattered and flew everywhere. A figure, silhouetted against the white snow stood framed by the broken ice. It was a man. He wore no coat, nor shoes, and yet wherever he stepped, the ice melted.

"Lucifer," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "It's been a while, Sir."

The Devil smirked as he walked over to her. His black hair and blacker eyes stood out against the pale of his skin and the white of his surroundings. His clothing was pitch black. "Angelique," he said, brushing her hair from her face. "You haven't changed a bit, have you? The starving yourself has done wonders on your figure, too."

Kate pulled away from him in disgust. "I may be your servant, Sir, but still I do not feel comfortable in your presence," she spat. "And my figure is none of your business."

He shoved her against the cave wall, his hand clutching her throat tightly. "You work for me," he growled. "Every man you've killed, every man you've tempted with your bed, they will all become my slaves when they come to me in Hell. You've been a good, obedient servant, Angelique, but it is your attitude that really irritates me. There's nothing more annoying than a FallenAngel who Fell unwillingly. Behave. Promise?"

"Go to Hell, Lucifer," she said bitterly. "Leave me alone. I just want to get on with my life. I just want to start over again."

His tongue flicked in and out of his mouth at her. "You can't start anew. I can't afford to lose you. You're too valuable to me," he hissed in her ear. "Behave, or you'll be locked in here again for a few centuries." He chuckled at the thought. "Do we have an accord?"

She hated to agree with him. "Yes, sir," she muttered. He released her. "I'm going to start over, though. Change my name. New location. New occupation… Try to forget this entire ordeal… Try to forget him…"

Lucifer smiled wickedly. "You miss your invisible bloke, don't you?" he asked as the two walked out of the cave. "Tsk, tsk. There's a reason God wouldn't let you Angels fall in love, you know. You get distracted. Then you get depressed and you're completely worthless for a while. Forget him, Angelique. He's not worth your aching heart." He held his hand out for hers. "Come, let's get you settled somewhere. Suggestions?"

"Bray, Wicklow," she said.

"Ireland?"

"If you please, Sir."

…


	3. Chapter II

_Chapter Two:_

Angelique found herself in her old house on Baker Street a few days after she was released from the ice cave. She looked over everything from that life she had led as Kate Bennet. In her bedroom, she came across a cabinet that she rarely opened. Inside of it she found a vial of a clear liquid. There was a label identifying it: _HJ7_. Knowing exactly what it was, she took the stopper out of the vial and contemplated it.

"Do you really want to do that, Angelique?" she heard Lucifer say behind her. "You know how it affected Dr. Jekyll. What would it do to you?"

"It could give me a new chance at life," she said. "One that I would enjoy more fully. I wouldn't have to feel pressured to conform to society if I drank this."

"If it didn't kill you, you mean," he said casually.

She glanced at him. "I'm a Fallen Archangel, how could it kill me?" she replied.

_No, there is no choice!_

_I must put aside_

_The fears I feel inside_

_There's no place to hide._

_So it comes to this_

_One last final chance_

_That only I can take_

_Now every thing I've fought for is at stake!_

_Like a warning light_

_Glimmering in red_

_Like crimson bloodshed_

_Shimmering in red._

_Beautiful and strange_

_See the colours change before my eyes!_

_See how they dance and they sparkle_

_Like diamonds at night!_

_Leading me out of the darkness_

_And into the light!_

She tipped about ten centilitres of the formula into her mouth, ignoring the look the Devil was giving her. It had a salty, bitter taste and stung her tongue. But it was warm in her throat and the heat spread strongly through her veins. It made her a bit light-headed with a feeling of euphoria.

_How will it be?_

_Will I see the world_

_Through different eyes?_

_Now the die is cast_

_Nothing left to do!_

_Time alone can prove_

_My theories true!_

_Show the world—_

"Oh, God!" she said suddenly, the pain coming onto her faster than she thought possible. The Devil rolled his eyes and left. "Oh… God…"

_Something inside me_

_A breath-taking pain_

_Devours and consumes me_

_And drives me insane!_

_Suddenly_

_Uncontrolled_

_Something is_

_Taking hold._

_Suddenly_

_Agony_

_Filling me_

_Killing me!_

_Suddenly_

_Out of breath_

_What is this?_

_Is this death?_

She ran to the mirror. Looking back at her from the reflective glass was not her. Her light brown hair was replaced with raven black locks. Her eyes were dark and cold.

_Suddenly_

_Look at me!—Can it be?_

_Who is this creature that I see?_

When she spoke, the voice was not hers. "Free…" _Oh, god… What have I done?_ she thought frantically, trying to gain control over her new self. _What have I released into the world? Can I control her? Jekyll couldn't control Hyde until years later… What have I done?_

* * *

Skinner ran from the League to the mouth of the cave where he had last seen Kate. The ice was gone. And so was she. He searched the cave thoroughly and completely. She was gone. The only thing remaining was the charred remains of Moriarty. Apparently, she had used his body as firewood to keep warm. He walked dejectedly to the League as they came to the cave. "She's gone," he said quietly. "There's nothing left."

"Skinner," Jekyll said, trying to comfort his friend. "We'll find her."

Skinner shook his head, the white make up blurring in the motion. "Forget about it," he said dully. "It's just like Angela said. Kate didn't want to be found. We'll never find her."

"Dr. Jekyll!" The League turned to see Angela running towards them, looking rather upset. "Dr. Jekyll, you once mentioned to me that Kate had stolen a vial of your formula. I felt a rather strong disturbance in London not unlike the ones I feel when you take the formula yourself. Perhaps she's using it to hide?"

"Well, that's ironic," Jekyll muttered, noticing Angela had said 'hide' when he used to hide within Edward Hyde. "Perhaps you're right, Angela. Shall we investigate? It would be nice for me to know where that vial is. It was an early draught that she stole, but it may have different effects on her." The League stared at him. "Different personalities, you know."

Nemo nodded. "Let us go to London," he said. "Mr. Sawyer, Dr. Jekyll, I believe you still remember where she took her residence there, am I correct?"

Jekyll nodded. Sawyer said, "Yes, sir. Baker Street."

Angela smiled. "Good," she said. "Let's get going then. If her other half is anything like Hyde, she won't stay in one place for long."

* * *

Four days later, a rather odd looking assembly of people were on the front steps of a house on Baker Street in London. Sawyer looked up at the windows of the house with contempt. The hurt that Kate had caused him in that building was still painfully strong.

"Can you hear that?" Mina said quietly after Nemo knocked on the door. "What the commoner people are saying?" The others shook their heads. She held out a hand. "Take my hand. Perhaps you'll hear it then." The others took her hand and they could hear the frightened whispers of the street people:

_Look at this—another murder!_

_Just like the other murder!_

_That poor old General Glossop—dead!_

_Last week that Bishop copped it!_

_The bloke what done it hopped it!_

_That feller must be out of his head!_

_That's two in the last four days!_

_This killer has fancy ways!_

_To kill outside St. Paul's_

_Requires a lotta balls!_

_He hates the upper class!_

_He must be on his arse!_

_Who could he be?_

_Don't look at me!_

_What a shame—dear General Glossop!_

_I hear there's a lot of gossip!_

_Although it didn't come from me!_

_What about the poor old Bishop?_

_That dreadful dirt they dish up!_

_Do you think it's true?_

_It well could be!_

_I say that it goes to show_

_Some people we think we know_

_Aren't all they might appear!_

_How right you are, my dear!_

_It's such a shocking thing!_

_But awfully interesting!_

_Who could it be?_

_Well… Now—Let's see!_

_Murder, murder!_

_Doin' folks in_

_Murder, murder!_

_Is the worst sin!_

_Murder, murder_

_Has me screamin'_

_Bloody murder_

_In the night!_

_Murder, murder!_

_Makes me blood thin!_

_Murder, murder!_

_Makes me head spin!_

_Murder. Murder!_

_Starts me drinkin'!_

_Bloody murder_

_In the night!_

_London has this killer on the loose!_

_Or a gang!_

_Either way—let 'em hang!_

_Gotta get 'is head inside a noose!_

_Right away!_

_The police are no use!_

_Maybe his nerve will fail him!_

_They must go out an' nail him!_

_They've gotta trail an' jail him_

_NOW!_

_Murder!_

_No matter who we're blamin'_

_Till they pull wotsisname in,_

_There's gonna be one flamin'_

_Row!_

_Murder, murder!_

_It's a curse, man!_

_Murder, murder!_

_It's perverse, man!_

_Murder, murder!_

_Nothin's worse than_

_Bloody murder_

_In the night!_

Confusion creased Sawyer's brow. "How are they so certain the murderer is male?" he asked.

Before anyone could answer him, the door finally opened. A dark-haired woman stood in the doorframe. "May I 'elp you?" she asked politely, but obviously not meaning it.

_Henry—_

Jekyll ignored the whisperings of Hyde in his head. "Yes, excuse us, Miss," he said instead. "We're looking for an old friend of ours. Perhaps you know of her? We're looking for Miss Kate Bennet."

Instead of denying or confessing anything, the woman began laughing. Sinfully. Without much more response than that, she shut the door in their faces. The League looked at each other confused. "I don't believe that was Miss Bennet," Angela said softly.

_Henry—_

Jekyll shut him out again. "Well, should we try next-door?" he suggested. "Mr. Holmes could be of some help."

"Mr. Holmes retired to the country," Mina said absently. "That woman didn't give off a sense of humanity, did she?" She looked at Jekyll and Angela. "She seemed almost Demonic."

Angela shook her head. "She's not a Demon," she said quickly. "A FallenAngel, perhaps, but not a Demon."

_Henry—_

_What is it, Edward?_ Jekyll finally decided to shut Hyde up. And the only way to do that is to answer him.

_That was a woman who had taken the formula, Henry._

_What? Are you sure?_

_Positive._

"Oh, god," Jekyll muttered. "She—whoever she is—that woman has taken the formula."

"How can you tell?" Skinner asked, sceptically.

Jekyll gave him a piercing look. "Hyde can tell," he said simply and knocked again. The door opened and the same woman was standing there. She didn't speak, so Jekyll did. "Hello, Kate. May I come in?" She tried to slam the door. But he was faster. He jammed his shoulder against the door and stopped it from closing. "Listen, Kate, it's all right. It's me, Henry. I'm your friend. Do you remember me?"

"Git away!" she growled, slamming her body against the door. "I don' know any 'Enry! Git away from 'ere!" She slammed against the door again and smashed Jekyll's shoulder painfully.

"Henry, leave it be!" Mina said. "It isn't worth losing your shoulder over."

With a surge of strength, Jekyll was able to get the door open wide enough for him to quickly slip through. The door slammed and the woman laughed sinisterly and slipped the bolt in place. "Oh, Dr. Jekyll," she said, losing the improper grammar. "Why didn't you share your findings with the rest of the world? This is positively _wicked_ and I love it!" She turned to face him. For a moment, Jekyll could see Kate in her eyes. "And I'm not Kate. I've never been Kate. I merely took her place when she died at age six." She walked away.

Jekyll followed her. "So if you're not Kate," he said, "who are you?"

"I'm a FallenAngel," she said nonchalantly. "My name is Angelique. My sister, Angela, out there never will understand the glories of being a FallenAngel, I assure you. She'll end up being as close to an Angel for the rest of her existence. She bothers me."

"Why did you take the formula?" he asked her.

"Why not?" she replied, smirking. "It's given me a new life."

"Did you kill those men?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

…


	4. Chapter III

_Chapter Three:_

"Listen to me, Kate—Angelique—whatever your name is," Jekyll said, stumbling over his words. "You must stop all this madness. Nothing will come of it, I assure you. Yes, it is wonderful to live, but if you continue to hurt people, you will be hunted down like a dog and you will be miserable. Do you understand me?"

She laughed. "The name's Pryde, Dr. Jekyll," she said, holding out her hand. "Ana Pryde. Angelique's not here."

But something stole over her. She fell against the wall. Gasping horribly, Angelique's voice issued from Ana's mouth, "_Henry—help me… Please._" She held her head in her hands.

"Angelique?" he asked, crossing to her and taking the shoulder in hand. "What can I do?"

"_She… She's controlling me_," Angelique struggled. "_Help me stop her—Please…_" She pulled away from him violently and slammed into the hall tree.

"Angelique!" he said, moving to catch her. "Are you all right?"

But when she looked up in to Jekyll's eyes, Angelique was gone and Ana Pryde had returned. "So sorry about that, Dr. Jekyll," she said. "She likes to pretend she can control me sometimes. So, you were saying?"

"I'm sorry about this," he said, turning her away from him. Ignoring her protestations ("What are you doing? Stop it!"), he pressed certain pressure points on her head and neck. She passed into unconsciousness and slumped against him. He carefully picked her up and carried her to the bedroom where he gently deposited her on the bed and tied her tightly and securely to it.

He returned to the front door; the rest of the League was waiting. "It's not Kate," he said soberly. "But she's very sick. The formula had had a very negative effect on her body. I need to stay until the rest of it has passed out of her system."

Nemo nodded. "Very well," he said. "We shall continue our search for Miss Bennet. You may remain here and we will return within the week. Come." He walked away with the others following him.

Mina remained behind. "Are you certain this is wise?" she asked him quietly, as he descended the steps to her side. "I'm not questioning your judgement, I simply thought it would be better for us to find her if you were by my side."

"Jekyll tucked some of her hair behind her ear and lightly kissed her. "I have to stay," he replied softly. "If I don't, she may die from this. Don't worry, I'll still be here when you return." Faint screaming issued from the house. "It appears the formula's run its course. Good luck. I love you." He kissed her again and dashed into the house.

* * *

When she woke up, Angelique had regained control of her own body. She was tied to her bed and someone was gently dabbing her face with a damp cloth. It was Dr. Jekyll. "Oh, thank God, Henry," she whispered when he smiled at her. Tears came to her eyes and she allowed them to fall. "I don't know what to do; I'm scared."

He took her hand. Her tiny wrist was rubbed raw by the cords binding her to the bed. He wanted to release her, but she was unstable with the formula running through her veins still. "Why did you drink it, then?" he asked her softly.

She shook her head. "I didn't want to, Henry," she said. "But the Devil made me do it." Jekyll gave her a sceptical look. "I'm serious, Henry. When an Angel Falls, they become servants of the Devil. He can make them—"

She stopped talking suddenly as though she had lost her breath. A sinister snickering filled the room. A man appeared next to Angelique with his hand covering her mouth. "Yes, she would be talking, wouldn't she?" he said. "Don't be afraid, Dr. Jekyll. You're not my servant. _Yet_. For now, watch over this one. She may be prone to lying now that she's under the influence of your delightful formula. Good day." He disappeared and Angelique gasped for breath.

"Was that the Devil?" Jekyll asked. She nodded. "So he did make you drink it. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have been so keen to shut you up so quickly." She nodded again and coughed quietly. "This will be an interesting little experiment we'll have to go through, Angelique. I'm not sure how the formula changes an Angel, Fallen or not, so we'll both have to wait and see. Hopefully, you won't change back into Ana Pryde anymore."

"I should bloody well hope so," she said. "If you compare her to me, me with all the nasty things I've done, and her and all the nasty things she's done already, I'm a completely pure Angel compared to her Demon-like self. It's like comparing God to Satan."

"Are you sure?"

"I was a good Angel before I Fell," she said. "I only killed when God instructed me to, and only when I absolutely had to. But, I had a Forced Fall, which wasn't my fault. Ana Pryde is almost the daughter of the Devil. She's that evil."

Jekyll sighed and nodded. "We have a problem if she rises again, then."

"I'd say so."

…


	5. Chapter IV

_Chapter Four:_

The only time Angelique was really Angelique was when she was tied to the bed and sleeping or almost asleep. The rest of the day, she would be wide-awake and Ana Pryde. Jekyll had no idea what to do. She swore she had only taken the ten centilitres of the formula. Jekyll would only change when he had taken the formula, and yet she would change whenever she was fully conscious and able-bodied. He wanted to help her, but he wasn't sure how to do that.

One morning, he went to bring Angelique her break fast and found the bed empty and the cords torn and discarded on the floor. "Oh, my God," he muttered, setting the break fast tray on a table and ran out of the house. He went in search of Ana Pryde. He couldn't find her. But he found his way to the docks, where a gaggle of people from the lower class was chattering frantically in fright. Jekyll stopped a man passing by and asked, "Sir, what's the fuss? What's happened now?"

The man stared at him as though he was mad. "Wot, 'ave you been locked in a cave, guv'nor?" he asked in response. "There's been two more murders!" The man left quickly.

Jekyll listened carefully to the people around him talking. They were all scared out of their wits.

_Read about the worst two murders!_

_Much worse than the first two murders!_

_That makes it murders three and four!_

_They've murdered dear old Bessie!_

_I hear extremely messy!_

_And poor old Archie is no more!_

_That's four in the last eight days!_

_It's London's latest craze!_

_This time he was in Park Lane!_

_An' he may come back again!_

_Until the killer's found_

_There's danger all around!_

_What can we do?_

_We wish we knew!_

_Murder, murder!_

_Once there's one done,_

_Murder, murder_

_Can't be undone!_

_Murder, murder,_

_Lives in London!_

_Bloody murder _

_In the night!_

Not knowing what to do, Jekyll wandered London, still trying to find Ana Pryde. Along towards evening, he found himself in a seedy pub near the waterfront. A stage performance was about to begin when he entered, so he found a seat. He needed to rest; he was exhausted. A barmaid walked over to him and said, "Watch 'er pleasure, mate?"

"Just get me a pint," he answered dully.

The curtains for the stage opened, but the stage was dark. A singly female voice came from the darkness:

_There was a time—I don't know when_

_I didn't have much time for men._

_But this is now—and that was then_

_I'm learning!_

Jekyll knew that voice. It had remnants of Angelique's tone, but it wasn't her.

_A girl alone—all on her own_

_Must try to have a heart of stone_

_So I try not to make it known,_

_My yearning!_

_I try to show I have no need_

_I really do—I don't succeed._

_So… let's bring on the men!_

The stage was lit and Ana Pryde was onstage, singing and dancing, wearing an outfit Jekyll knew that even Angelique wouldn't wear.

_And let the fun begin._

_A little touch of sin_

_Why wait another minute?_

_Step this way_

_It's time for us to play!_

_They say_

_We may not pass this way again_

_So let's waste no more time._

_Bring on the men!_

_I always know—I always said_

_That silk an' lace—in black an' red_

_Will drive a man right off his head._

_It's easy!_

_So many men, so little time_

_I want 'em all—is that a crime?_

_I don't know why they say that I'm_

_Too easy!_

_They make me laugh—they make me cry_

_They make me sick—so God knows why!_

She was joined by some other similarly dressed women on the stage. As she sang, Ana Pryde left the stage and wandered through the tables of the pub.

_We say bring on the men_

_And let the fun begin!_

_A little touch of sin_

_Why wait another minute?_

_Step this way_

_It's time for us to play!_

_They say_

_We may not pass this way again_

_So let's waste no more time_

_Bring on the men!_

_They break your heart!_

_They steal your soul!_

_Take you apart_

_And yet they somehow make you whole!_

_So what's their game?_

_I 'spose a rose by any other name_

_The perfume and the pricks the same!_

Ana Pryde found Jekyll and sat on his lap as she sang alone:

_I like to have a man_

_For break fast each day…_

_I'm very social_

_And I like it that way!_

_By late mid-morning_

_I need something to munch…_

_So I ask over_

_Two men for lunch!_

_And men are mad about_

_My afternoon teas…_

_They're quite informal_

_I just do it to please!_

_Those triple sandwiches_

_Are my fav'rite ones!_

_I'm also very_

_Partial to buns!_

_My healthy appetite_

_Gets stronger at night_

_My at-home dinners_

_Are my men-friends delight!_

_When I invite the fellers_

_Over to dine,_

_They all come early_

_An' we're in bed by nine!_

Ana Pryde left Jekyll and rejoined the girls on the stage.

_So let's bring on the men_

_And let the fun begin!_

_A little touch of sin_

_Why wait another minute?_

_Step this way_

_It's time for us to play!_

_They say_

_We may not pass this way again_

_So let's waste no more time!_

_Bring on the men!_

The curtains closed. Without waiting for his drink, Jekyll snuck backstage and looked for Ana Pryde. He found her in a small dressing room. "Ana, we need to go," he said. "I don't know how you got out of the house without my noticing, but you've had your fun and it's time to go."

She turned to face him. "Oh, but Henry," she almost whined. "I'm having so much fun!" She walked over to him and slipped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair. He stiffened at her closeness. "You wouldn't force me to stop having fun, would you?" She reached up and kissed him.

He pushed her away. "Miss Pryde, please," he protested, straightening his coat. "We need to go home. Angelique needs to see you."

"Oh, fie on Angelique!" she spat. "She's not any fun. I hate her!" She walked behind the dressing screen and continued speaking to him, "What is this feeling of power and drive I've never known? I feel alive! Where does this feeling of power derive? Making me know why I'm alive! Like the night, it's a secret. Sinister, dark, and unknown. I do not know what I seek yet I'll seek it alone! I have a thirst that I cannot deprive. Never have I felt so alive! There is no battle I couldn't survive feeling like this; feeling alive! Like the moon, an enigma, lost and alone in the night! Damned by some heavenly stigma but blazing with light! It's the feeling of being alive filled with evil, but truly alive! It's a truth that cannot be denied. It's the feeling of being Ana Pryde!"

Jekyll understood that feeling she was talking about. Hyde expressed it to him the first night of the experiment with _HJ7_ tested on himself. In almost the exact same words. "Ana, I understand, but you need to realise that you're stealing her life from her," he said as she threw a shoe at him from behind the screen. "It's really Angelique I should be speaking to right now. Not you. You're stealing her life and that's not right."

She walked out from behind the screen. "Animals trapped behind bars at the zoo need to run rampant and free! Predators live by the prey they pursue. This time the predator's me!" she spat, pulling a dress out of a wardrobe. "Lust—like a raging desire fills my whole soul with its curse! Burning with primitive fire—berserk and perverse! Tonight I'll plunder heaven blind! Steal from all the gods! Tonight I'll take from all mankind; conquer all the odds! And I feel I'll live on forever with Satan himself by my side!" She disappeared behind the screen again. "And I'll show the world that tonight and forever the name to remember's the name Ana Pryde! What a feeling to be so alive! I have never seen me so alive! Such a feeling of evil inside! That's the feeling of being Ana Pryde! With this feeling of being alive, there's a new world I see come alive! It's a truth that cannot be denied. There's no feeling like being Ana Pryde!" She walked out from behind the screen, fully dressed and ready to go out in public.

"Ana, come with me," Jekyll said. "Let's go."

"No," she said, bitterly. Then she pulled a small pistol out of the folds of her skirt and shot him.

…


	6. Chapter V

_Chapter Five:_

The next thing he knew, Jekyll was stumbling down a London street, unaware of where he was and bleeding profusely from his shoulder. Eternally grateful that Angelique's evil side couldn't shoot half as well as Angelique herself could, he tried to think of what he could do to save her. He couldn't in the state he was in and he couldn't retrieve the bullet from his shoulder without some sort of medical equipment. The only thing he could think of to do to save his life and Angelique's was to drink the formula himself. So he did.

After swallowing the familiar liquid, he was consumed with a massive pain. The pain consumed him like fire flowing through his veins. Every nerve ending in his body was screaming in utter agony. Then, as fast as it started, it was over and he had once again become Edward Hyde. He ripped the bullet from his shoulder and tossed it into a gutter.

Moving quickly, Hyde searched the streets of London, looking for Ana Pryde. He liked her and wanted to take her home with him. She was the kind of person that he could be happy with. _Edward—_Jekyll protested. _You are to find her and stop her. That is all._

"Whatever you say, Henry," Hyde muttered. He turned a corner and found her. She was bending over a lump of shadow. When he was closer, he could see her pull a knife out of a man's throat. "Good evening, Miss," he said when he reached her.

She looked up suddenly, surprised. "Mr. Hyde," she said, an eyebrow raised. She cleaned the bloody blade on the jacket of the man she just killed and tucked it into her boot. Then she stood erect and said, "What a surprise. What do you need?"

"You."

"Oh, really?" she said. "And I suppose Dr. Jekyll's in there issuing orders, is he?"

Hyde shook his head. "No, just me," he said, then he took her in his arms.

* * *

When Angelique woke up, she was once again bound to her bed. She looked around the room. There was an exhausted man sitting the chair next to her, his upper half bent double and laying on the bed, his left hand clutching her right tightly. "Henry?" she whispered, waking him.

He sat up quickly and looked at him. His eyes didn't seem to focus very well. "Angelique," he said, digging in his pocket for something. He pulled out a pair of silver glasses and put them on. With them, he seemed to wake up more fully. "I'm sorry. I couldn't stop them. I—God, what'll we do?"

"Henry, calm down," she said. "We'll think of something. But you have to remember that it wasn't either of our faults. It wasn't really us. You understand that, don't you?" He nodded silently. "Good. Because Mina and the rest of the League are walking down the street to the house." He stared at her. "I can see them through the window."

He stood and crossed to the window and peered out. "My God, you're right," he muttered. "Do you want to see them? They've been looking for you."

She thought a moment. "Has Rodney…" she began, but trailed off. Then she swallowed and began again, "Has Mr. Skinner… moved on?"

Henry Jekyll looked at her. "No, he hasn't," he replied. "That's why they've been looking for you." There was a pull at the doorbell. "Do you want to see them? You've been asleep for days, you may not have the energy."

Angelique sighed. "Let them in," she said. "But I only want to see Skinner." She almost laughed at the irony. "And no one else. Understand?"

"Yes, Angelique," he replied, leaving to answer the door.

* * *

Skinner was getting rather impatient. They had been looking everywhere for Kate and they hadn't found her. Now, they were back at the Baker Street house to get Jekyll and continue looking. He was beginning to think that he would never find her. The thought broke his heart.

The door opened and Jekyll stood there, looking rather exhausted and bookish. He was wearing glasses. "Hello," he said tiredly. "Come in. Come in. She gave her permission to let you in from the cold." He stepped aside and let them into the house. He closed the door and said, "You may wait in the sitting room. But, I need to speak to Mr. Skinner before I join you."

The others nodded and left for the sitting room. Skinner turned to Jekyll. "When'd you get glasses?" he asked, curiosity overcoming him.

"I've had them, I just don't wear them often. They make me look bookish," Jekyll said. "Come with me." He walked down the hall to another door. He paused with his hand on the handle. "This may come as quite a shock to you, Skinner." He opened the door and let Skinner inside the room.

What he saw next made his heart break. It was her. Kate. She was strapped down onto the bed and she was nearly only skin and bones under her bedcovers. This was not the Kate he had known for years. "Kate," he murmured as he quickly crossed to her, tossing his hat on a chair, and Jekyll closed the door behind him and did not join them. "Oh God, Kate, you look terrible."

She smiled weakly at him. "Hello, Rodney," she whispered. "I have something to confess to you. Will you listen to me and not judge me?" He nodded. "Very well… My name is not Kate Bennet. It never has been. My name is Angelique. I am—I _was_ an Archangel. I suffered a forced Fall from Grace twenty-six years ago and took the place of the real Kate Bennet who had died of tuberculosis at age six. I've wanted to tell you for a so long, but never could. Do you forgive me?"

He brushed her hair from her face gently. "Of course," he said softly. "Why are you like this? You look as though you're dying. Why did he tie you to the bed?"

She tried to answer, but she stopped, suddenly trapped in violent convulsions accompanied by screams of utter torment. Skinner backed away from her as she thrashed beneath the bedcovers and cords binding her. Her form filled out and her hair lengthened, the colour changing. When her fit finished, there laid the woman he had seen Jekyll struggle in the doorway with roughly a week prior. And he understood why she was tied to the bed.

…


	7. Chapter VI

_Chapter Six:_

Jekyll was in the sitting room explaining to the other members of the League the situation he and Angelique found themselves in. "As long as she is semi-conscious or completely asleep, she's fine and her normal self. However, if she's wide-awake, she's, well… She's evil," he said, pacing in front of the fireplace. "I'm not sure how to help her. I can't keep her sedated for the rest of eternity."

"Why?" Sawyer asked, playing the little boy part.

The good doctor sighed. "Firstly, because I won't live that long," he said. "And even if I did, I wouldn't have enough energy to do that. Secondly, I'm not sure what that would do to her."

They could hear a woman screaming in pain through the wall. Mina look startled. "Can't the neighbours hear that?" she asked.

"Mr. Holmes' house is empty for the time being," Jekyll said. "And the gentleman who lives in the other house has been deaf for the past seven years. So, technically, no."

The door to the sitting room banged open and Skinner ran in. "What did you do to her?" he demanded, grabbing Jekyll by the shirt collar. "And don't give me that 'she did it to herself' crap! _What did you do?_"

Jekyll removed Skinner's hand from his collar, cleared his throat and said quietly, "I believe it's time to introduce you to her," he said, leaving the sitting room and walking to the bedroom. He opened the door and entered, saying, "Miss Pryde, you have some visitors." He walked to her bedside and smoothed her raven hair from her face so she could see the League as they entered the room slowly. "Don't be afraid of her. She can't do anything." Jekyll turned his back on Ana Pryde and began preparing something for her.

"Hello," she said, her voice hoarse from the screaming. "Welcome to my dungeon cell which has been so kindly provided by Dr. Jekyll. Who, pray tell, are all of you?"

Angela walked over to the bed slowly. "Angelique?" she said softly. "If you're really in there, I want you to know that I'm severely disappointed in you. I know all about what you've done while you've been in your Fallen state. Didn't you know God watches us and judges whether we've been good enough to return to Grace or not?"

"Damn you, Angela," Ana Pryde said. "Being so high and mighty. Angelique never had the chance to prove herself to be a good FallenAngel. The Devil got to her first. And if you keep hiding, he'll find you and make you do more horrible things than he made her do. And, by the way, she's not really here right now, so save your breath. Sawyer, I think she needs to live a little more. Show her more of the Mortal Vices she's shunned for so long." She grinned wickedly. "You can't deny that you know how to please. There's evidence of that in Angelique's memory."

"What?" Skinner said, shocked. He turned to Sawyer. "What did you do?"

"Gentlemen, please," Jekyll said, turning to Ana Pryde. "She's simply trying to aggravate you. That's all she can really do while tied down. Now, Ana. It's time to say good bye." He held up a hypodermic syringe.

She began trying to get away from him. She struggled violently under the cords binding her. "No!" she shrieked. "Not that! Anything but that! I swear! Not that, Henry! Please!" He took her wrist in hand, but she yanked it from him. The cord that held her wrist to the bed separate from her body was pulled taught almost to its breaking point. "There's nothing I hate more than needles! Henry, please. Something else! Anything else!"

Jekyll motioned to Nemo, who nodded and helped him hold her still so he could inject the sedative he had prepared for her. "Ana, this is for your own good," he said, as she gasped harshly for air as the sedative began its work on her body. "They need to see Angelique, not you." Jekyll and Nemo released her.

She glared at him as she fell asleep. Jekyll looked around at the League. Skinner and Sawyer were glaring daggers at each other, but the others were staring at Ana Pryde as she settled into a deep sleep. Then she started convulsing with her transformation. She thrashed and screaming in pain as she changed from Ana Pryde to Angelique. Jekyll took her head in his hands and tried to get her to relax as she transformed. "Angelique, it's all right," he murmured in her ear as she continued to shriek in pain. "It will be over soon, I swear it. Relax. You can get through this. You're all right." The transformation completed and Angelique slept, breathing heavily.

Jekyll stood erect, smoothing Angelique's hair from her face. He looked over at the others. "Do you understand what I meant?" he asked. "There's no possible way to keep her sedated until we can figure out what to do. Beside the fact that I refuse to do that."

Skinner turned to Jekyll. "Did you know about what that—woman—had said about Sawyer and Angelique?" he asked, almost accusing him of hiding things from him.

"Skinner, her name is Ana Pryde," Jekyll said. "And as to if I knew… Whatever she's told me, I cannot tell you for she told me in the confidence of a patient to their doctor. There's a specific code of ethics I abide to as a doctor."

"Damn it," Skinner said, rather loudly, leaving the room.

Jekyll began coughing harshly and pulled out his handkerchief. Keeping it to his mouth as he coughed, he sat in his chair beside the bed and Mina rushed to his side. "Henry, are you all right?" she asked her husband gently. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, returning his handkerchief to his waistcoat pocket. "I'm fine. Just a cough."

Mina pressed her hand against his forehead and looked into his eyes. "You've been looking dreadful for days, though, love," she said softly as the others left the room. "What's wrong? You need to tell me so I can help you."

He shook his head. "Mina, there's nothing wrong with me," he said. "I was out in the cold the other night and now have a cough. I'll be fine, I assure you."

She looked like she didn't believe him. She looked over at Angelique. "Do you think you'll be able to help her?" she asked him.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I hope so. I want to be able to help her and Skinner both. She doesn't deserve this to happen to her. No matter what she's done."

Mina took Jekyll's hand. "I miss her company," she said. "It was refreshing to know there was another woman in the League who understood my subject. It made me feel as though I could have an intimate friend." She sighed. "Do you remember when we found her in Kenya, talking to Allan Quartermain, she gave Nemo two vials of antidote. One was for Sir Lucas the other for Mr. Skinner. Do you suppose it actually works?"

"I don't know," he said. "There's only one way to find out. And I think he's too upset to try it."

…


	8. Chapter VII

_Chapter Seven:_

"I don't care what you think I should do, Angela," Sawyer said bitterly. "I'm not going to apologise to him for anything! Whatever happened between me and Kate is our business!"

"Angelique," Angela corrected.

He glared at her. "I don't care." He flopped onto the settee in the library and stared at the ceiling.

Angela looked down at him and felt sorry for him. He seemed so alone, though he was surround almost constantly by his friends. She knelt beside him and gently ran her fingers through his hair. "Listen to me," she said softly. "Mr. Skinner deserves to know what happened. And he deserves to have _you_ tell him the truth. Not Angelique. Not Ana Pryde. Not Dr. Jekyll. You. For, you have to remember that even if it really is the woman's fault, the man will always be blamed for it. The men are the stronger of the two sexes. Please, love. Don't be stubborn. You need to tell him."

She saw tears come to his eyes. "The damning thing is," he said, the tears spilling onto his cheeks. "It wasn't her fault. It was mine. If only I hadn't…"

She took out her handkerchief and dabbed at his tear-streaked cheeks. "Everyone says 'if only,'" she said quietly, looking into his eyes. "But only the few can really do anything to remedy the sins that caused them to cry 'if only, if only.' You know what you must do. Now you need only do is go through with it. He is your _friend_. Not only that, she loves him and he loves her. You owe it to both of them to tell him."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You're right," he muttered. "I hate it when you're right." He sat up and looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asked.

"For what Ana Pryde said," he replied. "I feel like it's my fault."

Angela shook her head. "It isn't," she said, helping him get to his feet. "It's mine. Now, go tell him the truth."

Sawyer nodded and walked to the door, with Angela following him. He reached for the doorknob, but turned and tried to walk the other direct, but ran into her. "I can't," he said as she held him in place with little effort and one hand. "I can't tell him."

"Yes, yes, you must!" she said, turning him around. "The only way to feel better about this whole messy situation is to confront your fear head on. Mr. Skinner is your fear right now. You fear how he will react to what you will tell him. Honestly, what can he do?"

"He's invisible! He could sneak up and kill me!" Sawyer said, frantically trying to get away from her.

"Floating weapons are rather suspicious, don't you think?" she said. "Just go find him. He's in the sitting room."

"Actually, he's in the library," a voice said from the window. "And he's been listening to your conversation. Sawyer, I want to hear the entire story. Exactly what happened and how it happened." He paused and cleared his throat. "Now."

Angela was a little surprised. "Oh, well then," she said brightly, turning Sawyer to face the settee and pushing him towards it. "Go on. You know what to do." Making sure Sawyer had sat on the settee, Angela left the library and nearly collided with Mina.

"I'm sorry, Angela," Mina said. "I was hoping to find something to read. If I could sneak past you."

"Actually, Skinner and Sawyer are in there," Angela said. "We should leave them alone." Then Skinner's rather upset voice was heard through the thick doors. He was yelling at Sawyer, which got the American started yelling in his turn. "As I said. We should give them space." The door opened and Angela felt someone push past her roughly. "But, as it seems, Mr. Skinner has left the library. I'm sure it's safe for us to enter it in search for reading material. After you, Mina." The two women entered the library to find Sawyer laying on the settee, staring at the ceiling again.

"I hate it even more now than ever when you're right, Angela," he said. "And now I'm not liking Skinner much either."

Angela shook her head and knelt by Sawyer and patted him on the head. "Oh, well, you tried," she said lightly.

…


	9. Chapter VIII

_Chapter Eight:_

One evening soon after the League discovered his patient's secret, Dr. Jekyll was busy trying to tidy up Angelique's bedroom. As he cleared away the used dishes from her meals, she spoke to him softly, "Henry…"

He quickly crossed to her and said, "What is it? Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, her eyes half closed. "No," she whispered. "I was hoping that perhaps you had something I could read? I've read everything in the library and I'd like a new book."

Dr. Jekyll looked through his bag on a chair beside the door. He pulled out two books. "I only have the one you gave me," he said, holding it up. "And my log book." He walked over to her with the books. "But you've already read part of it, I'm sure."

"May I read your log book?" she asked softly. He handed her the book and moved the lamp closer to her so she could read it. "Thank you." She opened the book at the beginning.

_In each of us there are two natures._

_If this primitive duality of man—good and evil—can be housed in separate identities, life will be relieved of all that is unbearable._

_It is the curse of mankind… that these polar twins should be constantly struggling._

She turned the page and continued reading:

_If we could extract all the evil from each of us, think of the world that we could create! A world without anger, or violence, or strife where man wouldn't kill any more! A world of compassion where passion for life would banish the madness of war!_

_I'm close to finding the key to duality—chemical formulae which could and would alter the patterns of man's personality, guiding him either to evil or good!_

_Each of us is the embodiment of two distinct and opposing forces—good and evil—each fighting for supremacy inside us. If we could separate these two forces, we could control and ultimately eliminate all evil from mankind. My experiments with animals have led me to believe that the day is not far off when this separation will be possible. To achieve it, I must be allowed to try my formula on a living human being!_

The following pages contained formula equations, so Angelique flipped through them to another page:

_September 13th. 11:56 pm. I have started this alone… and I must finish it alone. There is no longer a choice… I know that I must use myself as the subject of the experiment._

_11:58 pm. Consumed 10 centilitres of Formula HJ7. Salty, bitter taste. Stings the tongue. Warm in the gullet. Heat spreading strongly through my veins. A slight feeling of euphoria. Light-headedness. No noticeable behavioural differences._

A long, thick, jagged line of ink told Angelique that it was at this point in the initial experiment that Jekyll transformed into Hyde. She continued to read:

_September 14th. 5:00 am. This is a strange, new, sweet sensation. I am younger, lighter, happier in body and soul—twice as alive and tenfold more wicked—which intoxicates and delights me like wine—adding fearful new hardships to my desperate battle for success._

_September 20th. 10:50 am. The experiments are now in their second week. The transformations are beyond imagining. Unspeakable nightmares besiege my senses. The most racking pains, and a horror of the spirit that exceeds all dreams of death._

_September 25th. 8:00 pm. I have radically altered the balance of the formula, to contain and overcome the powerful and darker forces at work inside me. I am aware of my peril, and the need to control Hyde's evil influence, which disappears within me like a stain of breath upon a mirror. He has found the perfect hiding place…_

_September 27th. 12:30 am. Have I become my work and nothing more? I know that's not what I'm living for!_

_October 7th. After midnight. The experiment is out of control. The transformations are starting to recur of their own accord. I cannot bear much more. The beast has taken a heavy toll, not only on me, who can yet be save, but on others, who cannot. I remain convinced there is a way to counteract the effects of the formula, but I must have new chemicals for the antidote soon._

_Every day they say they will be delivered, but still they do not come!_

_I dare not leave this place. I am dangerous—more dangerous than any wild animal stalking its prey…_

_October 12th. Very early morning. It's over now! I know inside! No one will ever know the sorry tale of Edward Hyde and those who died no one must ever know! They'd only see the tragedy; they'd not see my intent. The shadow of Hyde's evil would forever kill the good that I had meant!_

_Am I a good man? Am I a madman? It's such a fine line between a good man and a…_

Angelique closed the book suddenly, tears flowing down her cheeks. She covered her face as she cried and heard the bedroom door open and close. "Oh God…" she whispered, hearing Ana Pryde scream with delight inside her head. "Oh God… Henry, is there no hope for either of us?"

"He's not here right now, Angelique," she heard Skinner say beside her. She lowered her hands and still couldn't see him. She knew where he was, judging solely from the black leather jacket he wore. "But I have to ask you, do you love me?"

The surprise his question gave her shocked her enough to become wide-awake. Her transformation began, but Skinner took her head in his hands and looked into her eyes, holding her still. "Angelique, don't do this," he said. "You can fight it. You don't have to let her win this. Fight her. She is not who I want to talk to right now. You can't leave me with her. I want to see you. Angelique, stop this."

Her convulsions ceased and she gasped softly for breath. "How did you do that?" she asked him. "Henry tried, but it never worked."

"Well, _Henry_ doesn't love you the way I do," Skinner said. "Now, answer the question. Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," she said, hurt that he would think that she didn't. "Why would you feel so inclined to think I don't?"

"Sawyer just told me about your little adventure together," he said lightly. "Would you care to explain that for me?"

She bit her lip and thought of the best way to explain her submitting to the young American. "I was afraid," she began. "I was afraid that I wouldn't have been able to get back onto the _Nautilus_. So I did it to make him more inclined to convince you and the others to allow me entrance to the League once again. As Allan Quartermain once said, 'I would sink to any level to get what I need.' And, I'm sad to say that it's true." She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "But I never used you to achieve my ends. I truly love you, Rodney. I really do."

"Good," he said, leaning over her to kiss her lightly. "Do you need anything?"

"Yes, actually," she replied. "Will you get me something for my headache? And I need to speak to Dr. Jekyll."

Minutes later, Dr. Jekyll returned with something for her headache. As he gave it to her, he asked, "Skinner said you needed to talk to me about something. What is it?"

"I think I may be able to help you create an antidote to your formula," she said. "If you untie me, that is."

"How do I know you won't transform into Ana Pryde as soon as you're released?" he asked her.

She rolled her eyes. "Because I hate being her and I think I have a certain level of control over the transformation now," she replied. "If I _do_ start to change, you have my permission to lock me in the wardrobe if there's no time to tie me down again. Assassin's Honour."

He began to untie the cords binding her. "It disturbs me to know the code of ethics you follow is called Assassin's Honour," he said, freeing her arm.

She helped him. "What would you have me swear by?" she asked. "Turkey's Thumb? Honestly, Henry. You know what I do for a living." Within minutes, Angelique was free and changing her attire behind the dressing screen. Then she and Dr. Jekyll began to work on the antidote in the study, using the chemicals they had available to them.

* * *

Several days later, while the League was busy exploring London once more, Dr. Jekyll turned to Angelique and looked at her through the fading sunlight. "I never knew why you chose me in the first place, Angelique," he said, drawing a confused look from her. "Why you decided to get your materials from me and not some other researcher. Why me?"

"Why not you?" she asked in response. "Actually, I don't know why. I suppose I just did what had to be done. Mostly I don't think of the reasons why I should or shouldn't do something if it has to be done. I just do it. It should have gotten me into more trouble than it has already, but I suppose even FallenAngels have Guardian Angels sometimes, huh?" They continued working in silence until she said, "Henry, I'm sorry."

It was his turned to give the confused look. "For what?" he asked. "What did you do that needs apology?"

"What I did to you when we were younger," she said. "I didn't realise fully what was happening to you because of your studies. I thought only of my own research and nothing of your troubles. I betrayed your trust in a selfish act, and I'm sorry. Now I understand what you went through. More fully now than I would have if I hadn't taken the formula myself or read your log. Can you ever forgive me?"

Dr. Jekyll took the flask she held from her and turned her to face him. "Do you remember when we were looking through Sir Lucas' laboratory, you stopped me from unintentionally causing my death by contact with that particular poison," he said. "I never thanked you for that."

"You don't have to," she said, averting her gaze. "Honestly, you don't. You were untrained in poisoning and I was specialised in it. I felt it was my duty to make sure you didn't accidentally commit suicide."

"Hear me out," he said quietly. "In that moment, that you saved me from a tragic fate, in that brief moment, I realised that I could trust you with anything. My life, others' lives, my work, my secrets. And I realised that you weren't as evil as I thought you to be between our stretches of acquaintance. I forgave you of every ill deed you committed against me, and everyday I had hoped you could forgive me for judging you and treating you so harshly, and leaving you to your death in Sir Lucas' house." He sighed and lightly traced a line on her cheek with his index finger. "In my own strange way, I've always loved you, but I also always knew I could never have you. You were foreign to me in everyway imaginable."

"Henry," she whispered. "Please, don't do this." She took his hand from her face. "I have a slight immorality problem." She turned away from him and continued to work while he fumed at himself for being such an idiot.

…


	10. Chapter IX

_Chapter Nine:_

Angelique had trouble looking at Mina after she and Dr. Jekyll had spoken while working on the formula's antidote. She almost felt guilty for something that wasn't her fault. She didn't do anything to betray Mina, but she felt she did, even though she kept herself in line and was a good girl for once. She still felt bad about it, though.

She also felt hideously guilty about what Hyde and Ana Pryde had done. She knew it wasn't her fault and that she had no control over it and that Dr. Jekyll couldn't be to blame either, but she still felt a sharp stab of guilt whenever she saw Mina. Especially when she saw Mina with Dr. Jekyll.

She was jealous. The problem was, she knew she was jealous of her friend and that she shouldn't be jealous. She had the man she loved just as Mina had hers. And yet, she couldn't help feel the jealousy rise in her heart whenever she saw them together. Angelique hated being jealous of her friend. She hated being jealous of her sister. She never realised that she _could_ be jealous of the high and mighty FallenAngel. But when she saw Angela and Sawyer together, she felt the envy. She hated being jealous of anyone, really. She had no reason to be jealous of them. And yet, she was. She didn't understand it.

So, one night, while Dr. Jekyll had taken Mina to a revue, and Sawyer and Angela went for a walk in the moonlight, and Skinner and Nemo were in the library, reading, Angelique locked herself in her bedroom and cried. She hadn't transformed into Ana Pryde in weeks, but she could still feel her there, inside her. She laid on her bed, her face buried in her pillows and blankets and cried, saturating the fabrics with her salt tears.

_Father, what's wrong with me?_ she prayed silently. _Why do I feel this horrifying jealousy of my sister and my friend? Why can't I be happy in my situation? Why do I seem to need more than what I have? Please, help me, Father…_

"Oh, poor FallenAngel," she heard Lucifer say behind the dressing screen. She sat up and saw him walk out from behind it. "Can't seem to find happiness while others around you are blissfully happy, all the while completely unaware your tortured soul is in anguish? All over a simple case of jealousy."

"Go away, Lucifer," she said, digging under her pillows for a handkerchief. "I'm in no mood for your treachery. Please, let me alone." She couldn't find a handkerchief, so she buried her face in the pillows again.

He sat on the edge of her bed and ran his hand gently up and down her back. "How's Ana doing, Angelique?" he asked her softly. "I haven't seen her about lately. What's she been up to?"

"None of your damned business," she muttered into the pillows. "You made me drink the formula. You've ruined my life once again."

"But you _liked_ it the last few times I ruined your life," he said, leaning over her and hissing into her ear. "You _loved_ being allowed to kill whenever you felt like it. You loved being able to enjoy the lustful desires of your Fallen heart. You _loved_ it when I brought you and Moriarty together. You loved him. You loved his kiss, the feeling he gave you when he touched you. Admit it. The only reason you hate me for ruining your life this time is because you want him."

She looked up at the Devil. "What are you talking about?" she whispered.

"Your dear Dr. Henry Jekyll," he said, mocking her. "This time you actually want him. The last few times you two were together, you couldn't care less about his bed. The first time, you were using him to gain your ends. You didn't even sleep with him to do it, that's how much you didn't care about him. The second, you respected your sister's Guarded enough to let her have him. But, now…" He began to undo the lacing on the back of her dress. "Now, you know what it's like to have a monster live inside you, and how he feels to live the way he does, knowing that at any minute, that monster could erupt out of you and destroy everything you've worked for. Isn't that right?"

"Get out," she growled, sitting up quickly. "Get out of here. _Now!_ I don't ever want to see you again!"

"You can't kick me out," Lucifer said, getting off the bed as she stood on it and nearly glowed with Fallen Power in her anger. "I'm the Devil. I _own_ you! You can't deny that you want all three of them. You can't. You want them—Skinner, Sawyer, _and_ Jekyll. Even though your dear doctor's dying of consumption and he won't tell anyone. Admit it, Angelique!"

"_Get out of my house!"_ she screamed, pointing to the door. The Devil was lifted off his feet and he flew backwards through the door. The wood splintered and gave way to the force she sent the evil being through it with. He landed in the hall, covered in debris and dust.

He stood and glared at her as Skinner and Nemo came to see what had happened. "Mark my words, Fallen," he said, glaring at her. "You will pay for this! None of my servants will treat me in this way and get out of it unscathed!"

"Get out," she repeated. Then she looked like she was chocking. Her hands flew to the collar of her dress and tried to get it away from her throat. She lifted into the air as she struggled to breathe.

_Unhand her, Son of Perdition!_

The men, including the Devil, looked around for the source of the imposing voice. Gabriel appeared at the foot of Angelique's bed, his hand on his sword hilt. "Let her go," he said. "Or taste the wrath of the Almighty God."

"Well, are you pernickety," the Devil said, looking at the ceiling. "First, you kick her out of Heaven and into my service, and now you won't let me punish her for disobedience. What do you want with her, anyways?"

"Lucifer," Gabriel said, gathering the Devil's attention once again. "He has His plan for her. Let her go."

"Fine," the Devil said, twitching his eye. Angelique fell to her bed, bounced off and landed on the floor hard.

"Angelique!" Skinner said, running to her side and bringing her into his arms.

The Devil laughed at the scene. "Have your fun with her while you can, Invisible Man," he said. "For before long, you'll be joining me in Hell. She can't save you from everything." Then he was gone.

Nemo shook his head and sighed. "You Christians have very strange beliefs," he said, helping Skinner lift Angelique onto the bed and make her comfortable.

The Archangel walked over and placed his hand on her forehead. "She'll be all right, Mr. Skinner," he said. "He technically can't kill her."

"What does that mean?" Skinner asked.

"Have you ever heard of an Angel being killed?" Gabriel asked, snapping his fingers. Angelique's dress restored itself. "Of course, somehow, she Fell because she was killed. No one's certain if she Fell in battle or if she was murdered."

"I thought you just said—"

"An Angel can be killed by another Angel," the Archangel said. "But, only Archangels can kill without Falling themselves. And I don't believe anyone else Fell at the same time she did. So she must have been killed by another Archangel."

Skinner looked down into the calm face of Angelique. "What kind of Angel was she?" he asked.

"Has she never told you?" Gabriel asked, surprised. "She took such pleasure serving God in the position she held. She did her duties well and nearly perfectly. She nearly gained enough strength and Angelic Power to rival myself in rank." Skinner cleared his throat. "She was an Archangel. The fourth in line of succession."

"Who were before her?"

"In order, myself, Michael, then Raphael," Gabriel said, ticking off the names on his fingers. "She was one in a million, Angelique was. She took her duties quite seriously and inspired a lot of jealousy in the younger, less experienced Archangels, too, unfortunately." He brushed her hair from her face. "But she was a good girl. Still is, too. Only does what she is ordered to. Unfortunately, her orders come from the Devil himself... I must go. A Guardian is calling for help." He disappeared.

"Yes, you Christians have _very_ interesting beliefs."

…


	11. Chapter X

_Chapter Ten:_

That night, after returning to Angelique's Baker Street home and finding her bedroom door in splinters, Jekyll couldn't sleep very well. He kept hearing Hyde snickering in his head. So he got out of bed, dressed and went to Angelique's room where he looked down on her sleeping peacefully. He gently brushed her hair from her face and whispered, "Angelique?"

She muttered something unintelligible and opened her eyes. Smiling, she said, "Henry? What are you doing here?"

He sat on the edge of the bed and said, "I couldn't sleep. I was worried about you."

"Why should you be worried about me?" she asked, sitting up. "I'm fine. I can hear Ana Pryde occasionally, but other than that, I'm perfectly fine. Honest, Henry."

"I believe you," he murmured. Then he pulled her to him and kissed her. This was what he had wanted for a very long time, but couldn't seem to have it. He felt her wrap her arms around his shoulders and pull him closer to him. Then…

He woke up and found himself in the guestroom with Mina sleeping soundly beside him. He rubbed his face and got out of bed. He quickly dressed and went to the kitchen to get a quick something to eat before he left to wander London for a while. He found Angelique there, slicing apples and bread. "Why are you awake?" he asked as she arranged the apples and bread on a silver serving tray.

"I never went to sleep," she replied. "Here, have some apples or bread. I can't finish it all myself." She held the tray of food she prepared out to him. "Ana Pryde kept snickering so I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to. What's your excuse?" They sat at the table and ate the bread and apple slices.

"Hyde," Jekyll said. They finished the food in silence. "Angelique, we need to talk. Is there an unoccupied room that has a lock in the door?"

She thought for a moment. "Mina's in the guestroom," she said. "Rodney's in my room. Sawyer and Angela are in the library. Nemo's in the sitting-room. I'm not sure…" She crunched into an apple slice and leaned back in her chair.

"What about the study?" Jekyll asked. "I thought that had a lock."

"It does," she said. "But, the door latch doesn't work anymore. The last time he was here, Sawyer destroyed it in a useless attempt to save me from Moriarty. I haven't gotten around to fixing it yet." She thought a bit more. "There's the attic room. I don't usually go up there, but it should still have a lock."

"That'll work," Jekyll said, standing. "Come on." He left the kitchen and walked up the stairs, with Angelique running after him. He stopped at the door to the attic stairs. "It's locked."

"I know that," she said, fishing a ring of keys from her waist purse. "I told you; I never go up there." She unlocked the door and opened it. "After you, Dr. Jekyll." They climbed the narrow and dark stairs to the attic room. "That door shouldn't be locked," she said, when he paused at the door. He opened it and walked in. Angelique followed in after him and closed the door. Then she went to the window and drew back the curtains to let in some light from the streetlamps. "Now, what is this all about?" she asked, turning to face Jekyll.

He sighed. "There's been a bit of a problem," he said. "Concerning us."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is this when I lock the door?" she asked, walking over to it and turning the key in the lock. "Henry, what are you talking about?"

Jekyll didn't say anything. He crossed to her, gently lifted her face by the chin and looked into her eyes. They were the same eyes he had thought about so constantly since joining her at Baker Street to help her overcome the mad monster within her.

She bit her lower lip and said, "Henry? What's the problem?"

He shook his head. "Don't do that," he said.

"Do what?"

"That. With your lip. It's distracting."

"Sorry," she apologised softly, releasing her lower lip. "But, seriously, what's the problem?" He sighed. And he mumbled something she couldn't hear. "Sorry?"

"I love you, Angelique," he said more clearly. "I always have. And it's extremely distracting. But I can't help it. I've loved you since we first met."

She walked away from him to the window. "But, Henry," she said softly. "What about Mina? And Rodney?" She traced a line on the dusty glass with her finger. "Don't they mean anything? Their feelings? She loves you, Henry. Don't betray her."

"Angelique, please," he said. "I'm trying to decide what to do. But with you constantly nearby, it's hard. It really is."

She turned to face him. "I will not be the other woman," she said firmly. "I refuse to do that to her. She is one of my closest friends. One of the first friends I have had in years. I will not betray her. Nor will I betray Rodney again. What happened with Sawyer I regretted since it happened. Never again will I betray Rodney. I love you, Henry, but I know where the boundaries lie and I will not cross them." She waited for him to respond, and when he didn't, she continued, "It is your choice if you want to betray her—your _wife_. But you will not drag me into it. I love her too much to let you betray her with me. She is almost a sister to me and I could never betray a sister. As for Rodney, you cannot deny that even though he's a rogue, you consider him one of your closest friends. Friends don't do this to each other. It is not your decision if Rodney is betrayed, but mine. And I will not do that to him again. I refuse to do that." Jekyll still didn't answer. "Henry, say something."

"I remember hearing someone say once in France," he began softly, staring past her. "That divorce is something they only do in England. She was in an argument with her husband when she said it…"

Angelique walked over to him and slapped him. "Don't you _dare_ divorce her!" she said. "She's done nothing to deserve it!"

"It was just a thought," he said quickly, afraid she would slap him again. Then he bent over double and began coughing. He pulled out his handkerchief and coughed into it.

"Henry, are you all right?" she asked, guiding him over to a sheet-covered couch. She sat him down and sat next to him. She pressed her hand against his forehead. "Heavens, you're burning!" She took his handkerchief from him and looked at it. Spattering of blood dotted the white cloth. "You do have the consumption, don't you?" He looked away from her. "Don't you?"

He nodded. "But don't tell anyone," he said quickly. "Especially not Mina. With everything that's happened, I can't have her fussing over me."

"Henry, we have to tell someone," Angelique said, handing him her handkerchief. "You need to be seen by a doctor."

"But I'm a doctor," he protested.

"I know that, but you can't treat yourself," she said, standing and going to the door. "Lie down, I'll send for Dr. Watson. I know he's a surgeon, but he's always willing to help when he can." She left the attic room and Jekyll heard her turn the key in the lock.

The League found Angelique sitting in the kitchen, her arms crossed on the table, her head on her arms, and a bit of white cloth clutched tightly in her hand. She was crying. "Angelique," Angela said, sitting next to her and putting her arm around her. "What's wrong?"

Mina looked around. "Where's Henry?" she asked.

"I locked him in the attic," Angelique said, lifting her head and revealing her red eyes and tear stained cheeks. "He's sick. He just won't admit it."

Mina's face lost some of its colour. "What does he have?" she asked, gripping a chair tightly. So tight, she was putting fingernail marks in the wood.

Angelique showed them his handkerchief. "He has consumption," she whispered, choking on her words. "But he doesn't want you to know, Mina. He doesn't want to worry you." She wiped away a few tears. "And I can't find Dr. Watson or any other doctor. They've just seemed to have disappeared."

"I'm going to talk to him," Mina said, leaving the kitchen.

"Mina," Angelique called. Mina stopped. "You'll need the key." She slid the key across the tabletop.

"Thank you."

…


	12. Chapter XI

_Chapter Eleven:_

The rest of the day found Angelique in her study working on the antidote for the formula. She never stopped working on it, not even when Angela brought in some food for her dinner. "You need to stop to rest sometime, Angelique," she said, setting the tray of food on a small table. "You can't keep going on like this."

"Watch me," the other replied, a pen in her mouth. She tried adding a bit of Hydrogen Chloride to the compound she already had and wrote down the reaction. "I don't have time to waste with eating and sleeping, Angela. I need to find the antidote to the formula and hopefully, I can save both myself and Dr. Jekyll." She continued working. "By the by, how is he?"

"The same as how you left him this morning," Angela said, sitting down. "And we still can't find a doctor to come in. They're not willing to treat him."

"Because they're afraid of Hyde," Angelique said, recording another reaction. "But, honestly, there's nothing to be afraid of. Hyde only comes out when Henry wants him to." A loud crashing sounded overhead. The FallenAngels looked up at the ceiling. "It appears Hyde has been released." They ran up to the attic door. "Henry, what's going on in there?"

The door burst open and Hyde stood in the doorway, grinning sinisterly at Angelique. "Ah, my love," he said, trying to look down her dress front. "It is time."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, but she could hear Ana Pryde inside her head, laughing wickedly. Hyde grabbed her around the waist. "Stop it! Let me go!"

The rest of the League came in time to watch Angelique transform into Ana Pryde. Hyde held her steady so Angelique couldn't fight it. Ana Pryde appeared, almost cackling in delight. "Well now," she said. "Let's go." Mina and Angela tried to block their way, but Ana Pryde simply pushed past them down the stairs and, shoving Sawyer, Skinner and Nemo out of the way, disappeared into the night.

* * *

"Where are they?" Mina asked the others later. "Where could they have gone? London isn't big enough to hide them!"

"Perhaps they are no longer in London," Nemo suggested, looking over a map of London that he found in the study. "Perhaps they are not in England anymore, either."

"How is that even possible?" Skinner asked. "They don't have access to the transportation technology you do, Nemo. Not everyone can get to Venice in three days." He kicked the nearest piece of furniture. "Besides the fact they've only been gone a few hours."

Mina growled and threw the book in her hands across the room. "Who does she think she _is_?" she shouted. "She knows he's sick! What makes her think she can do this?"

"Mina," Angela said, trying to restore order. "It was Hyde and Ana Pryde that left. Technically, Dr. Jekyll and Angelique have been kidnapped. You can't blame her for this. It isn't her fault this time."

"I'm going to blame her anyway," Mina said. "You don't hear him talk in his sleep at night, Angela. _I_ do. Mine isn't the name he constantly says." She began to cry and sat down on the floor, her face buried in her hands. "What if using Hyde and Ana Pryde was only a façade they're using to hide what they're really doing?"

Angela sat next to her and put her arm around her shoulders. "Mina, you know that's not true," she said softly, trying to comfort. "You know he loves you. I honestly don't think he would leave you. Not even for Angelique. They wouldn't get along as a couple very well anyways. They have such different views on the same subjects."

"Angela, that doesn't help," Mina muttered.

"Sorry."

…


	13. Chapter XII

_Chapter Twelve:_

When she woke up, Angelique had no idea where she was. She hadn't left London; she knew that. The room seemed familiar, but then, most houses in London looked the same to her. It took her a moment to realise, while she examined the room she was in, that someone had his arm draped around her waist. She gently took his hand and looked at it. He was wearing a wedding ring. "Oh, no…" she whispered, turning and finding the sleeping Dr. Jekyll laying beside her. She scrambled out of the bed and grabbed a dressing gown from a nearby chair and pulled it on. "Not again." She was getting really sick of waking up and finding out she had, in the form of Ana Pryde, slept with someone she didn't have the opportunity to enjoy sleeping with. It was getting really irritating.

While Dr. Jekyll slept on, Angelique decided to look around the house they were in. She didn't recognise it and she felt that she should. It didn't take her very long to explore the small building. It was almost a replica of her own house on Baker Street. It was just smaller. So she waited for Dr. Jekyll to wake up. She stood by the rain-streaked window and looked out into the street below it.

"Angelique?"

She didn't turn to look at him. "Henry, where are we?" she asked, pulling a curtain aside to look into the street better.

"46 Harley Street," he said. "My home."

Angelique turned to face him. "Dammit, Henry!" she said angrily. "We've got to do something about this! It's rather annoying, if you ask me, and I want it to stop! They're out of hand; and they're using us to gain their ends! Their playing us at the game I created!" She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

He thought. At least she assumed he was thinking; he had a thoughtful look on his face in any case. "It is rather strange, isn't it?" he said quietly. "What do you suppose is their end?"

"Lord, I don't know," she said, spinning a ring around her left third finger. "I can't remember much of what they've done. For some reason, she's blocked it." Then she realised she was wearing a ring. She held up her left hand and examined the gold band. "Oh, God…" she muttered. "Henry, I think they married!"

He grabbed her hand and looked at the ring. "Impossible," he said. "A person's evil side can't marry without the good side knowing it or putting a stop to it!"

"Well, they've done it," she said, falling onto her back. "What'll we tell Mina and Rodney?"

"Something," he said. "Anything. Hell, I don't know…"

* * *

"I never want to see her ever again!" Skinner shouted after Angela suggested the League should go look for their missing comrades. "She's betrayed me for the last time! If I never see her again for the rest of eternity, it will be too soon!"

"Mr. Skinner, give her a chance," Angela said. "It wasn't really her, after all. I don't think she has total, if any, control over what Ana Pryde does. We should look for them and give them the antidote they were working on. I do believe she was nearly finished with it."

"He has tuberculosis, Angela!" Mina said, accidentally knocking over her chair when she stood. "If he rids himself of Hyde, who knows how fast the consumption will kill him? I won't let you do that!"

"But you'll let him disappear with some other woman, Mina?" Skinner said bitterly. "I thought you loved him."

"I did!" she said shrilly. "But, lately, I'm not quite sure. I thought I loved him. Perhaps I was wrong."

"Well, girl," Skinner said. "You married him. The two of you owe each other a certain amount of loyalty. So, if and when we ever see them again, you have my permission to kill her, if I can have your permission to kill him."

"Never!" Mina shouted, then left the library. "But I _will_ kill her when I see her!"

"You can't kill her, she's an Angel," Sawyer said, flipping through a book he had found on the _Nautilus_. He didn't feel comfortable reading any of Angelique's books.

Skinner threw a book at Sawyer and left the library, judging by the large door slamming by itself. Angela sat down next to her love. "What will we do?" she asked softly, looking between Nemo and Sawyer. "We need to bring them back together. This League is falling apart and I can't stand it."

"But what can we do?" Nemo asked. "Dr. Jekyll and Miss Angelique have both disappeared and the two people who used to love them most have made it known that they will have nothing to do with either of them for the rest of eternity. Eternity is a long time."

"I know eternity's a long time," Angela said, almost bitterly. "I'm an Angel for goodness' sake!"

…


	14. Chapter XIII

_Chapter Thirteen:_

After break fast, Angelique and Dr. Jekyll sat in the sitting-room and tried to think of something to tell the remainder of the League. They hadn't thought of anything before she said, "You live in a very quiet neighbourhood, Henry. No one's passed by all morning."

"I know," he said. "It wasn't this quiet the last time I was here. Someone had been murdered. I just can't remember who it was." Someone started pounding on the front door. "What the Devil…?" Dr. Jekyll and Angelique rose from their chairs to see what the fuss was. Dr. Jekyll opened the door and said, "Yes, what do you want?"

A young lady stood on the front step and looked rather frightened. "Please, sir," she said softly. "Someone's dying over yonder. Can you help?" She pointed down the street.

"Henry, go," Angelique said, nudging him in the back a little. "You're a doctor. You can help." He nodded and followed the young lady down the street. Angelique followed closely. She felt the colour fade from her face when she saw who the poor man was. "Henry, it's Sir Danvers Carew."

"My god, you're right," Dr. Jekyll said, kneeling by the still form. "Sir Danvers?"

The old man looked at the doctor and tried to smile. "Henry," he whispered hoarsely. "I never forgave you for what you did to my daughter… Seeing as I'm dying, I may as well do that now…"

"Sir, keep strength," Dr. Jekyll said, checking the wound to the Knight's stomach. "You shall live; I promise."

Angelique knelt on the other side of Sir Danvers and tried to comfort him. "Sir Danvers, do you remember me?" she asked him. "My father was Mr. Bennet of Longbourn."

"Lizzy?" he asked. "Lizzy, is that you?"

She shook her head. "No, sir," she whispered. "I'm Kitty. You remember me, don't you? Little Kitty? You used to let me sit on your lap in the library while you told me a story about my father after he was murdered."

"You wretched girl," Sir Danvers spat. "I know what you turned out to be. It's no wonder your father was murdered; if the man had any sense, he would've killed you instead. After your bout with the sickness, you were a demon in disguise as a little girl." He hit Dr. Jekyll's hands away from his wound. "Let it alone, dammit! I want to die, Henry. Let me alone!" Moments later, he was dead.

Angelique looked at Dr. Jekyll. "What just happened?" she asked softly.

"I—I don't know," he whispered. He got to his feet and helped Angelique up as someone shouted that Sir Danvers Carew was dead.

"You, girl!" Someone grabbed Angelique's arm and spun her around.

The eyes that met hers made her blood run cold in her veins. She knew those eyes. But the last time she had seen them, the owner was an infant and innocent. Now, they were owned by a full-grown man and he had obviously seen much in his lifetime. She quickly regained her composure and, with an icy stare, said, "Excuse me? I'm old enough to be your mother."

"Hardly," he laughed. "You are Kathryn Bennet, are you not?"

"Possibly," she replied. "Who's asking?"

He held out his hand. "My name is Simon Stride," he said as she shook his hand. "I need to speak with you if you have the time."

"Is there a problem?" Dr. Jekyll asked, joining Angelique and Simon Stride. He made eye contact with Stride. "Mr. Stride. Fancy meeting you here. Did you need something?"

Stride looked at Angelique. "Are you with him?" he asked her.

"Yes, actually," she said. She began walking back to Dr. Jekyll's house. The men followed her inside. "Mr. Stride, I can't pretend I know why you need to speak with me. So, if you would be so kind as to explain, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Miss Bennet," he said as they entered the sitting-room. "I need your help. I have been looking for my parents—"

"Have you ever met your parents?" she asked, interrupting him. He shook his head. "I didn't think so."

"But, I know that my mother is dead," he said. "She was murdered years ago. But, my father still lives. And I need to find him so I may know why they abandoned me."

Angelique started laughing. "Your father still alive?" she repeated. "I seriously doubt it. He was killed a little over a year ago. Henry and I are both familiar with his killer." She looked at Dr. Jekyll, who mouthed 'Mina?' She nodded. "But, Mr. Stride, don't worry; it had to be done. He had to die." She could hear Lucifer snickering from a dark corner of the room. "On the other hand, your mother. She's still alive, I assure you. If she died as you say she did, some people that Dr. Jekyll and I both know would be a little happier… But, in any case, she can't die. After all, how do you kill a FallenAngel?"

Dr. Jekyll was by this time giving Angelique a very strange look. "But I thought FallenAngels couldn't bear children?" he asked. "Wasn't that one of your reasons for certain stories you've told?"

"Oh, come off it, Henry," she replied, sitting down. "Most everyone knows that within the first year of being Mortal-ish, a FallenAngel is susceptible to every consequence of certain activities that all Mortals are. She simply forgot about that fact. So, Mr. Stride, you're really half FallenAngel. But, that is the only thing you can boast about. It won't do you any good, really."

Stride looked ready to kill her. "You're lying!" he growled, almost launching himself at her.

She held up a hand and he stopped in mid-attack. "I jest not," she said lightly. "But, it amazes me how you managed to survive the Hyde attacks those many years ago. You were always very nasty to poor Henry here. And for some reason or another, Hyde would kill the people who mistreated Henry. But who can fathom the mind of a psychopath?" She sighed. "Sit down, you idiot," she snapped at Stride.

"How can she possibly be alive?" Stride asked. "She was shot through the head!"

"Did you not hear a word I just said?" she asked. "Beside, what was her name? Did they ever tell you?"

"Just her first name," he said. "Her name was Melangell."

Angelique nodded. "I see," she said. "Welsh for 'Sweet Angel'. Interesting, don't you think, Henry?"

He nodded. "Very interesting," he said. "Reminds me of you, sweet."

"Don't call me that," she said dryly. "Mr. Stride. Why did you kill Sir Danvers?"

Stride looked at her, his face pale and his eyes wide. "I didn't kill him," he protested. "I've always respected him."

"But you killed him anyway," she said, standing and crossing to him. She took his right wrist in her left hand and held it up. "You see, there? His blood on your hand. And I'm certain you didn't touch him once he was wounded." She closed his hand into a fist. "Look, see? The blood is in the area that would have made contact with him once you'd stabbed him." She closed her fist around a nearby pen and held it like a knife. "You see, a perfect match. If you were trying to pin it on the St. Paul's and Park Lane murderer, you should have done a better job at it. You didn't remember that the murderer slits their victims' throats, did you?" He shook his head. "No, I didn't think so."

She released him and walked away, shaking her head. "And, out of curiosity," she said, "what were you going to do when you killed the last remaining member of the Carew family?" She looked over her shoulder at him. He didn't respond. "Let's see if I remember it correctly…" She thought a moment, then said, " 'Henry Jekyll, I despise you! You have stolen the girl who should be my wife! But there'll come a day, not so far away, when you'll not only pay, you will pay all your life!' Bitter words to the good doctor. You couldn't stand to know Hyde killed her, could you, Stride? And so you wanted revenge. And in so doing, you would murder her father and try to make it look like Hyde did it, am I right?"

"What are you talking about?" Dr. Jekyll asked. "What's going on? Where's Lisa?"

"She's dead," Angelique said, surprise in her eyes. "Henry, don't you remember? You were so distraught that you left England. You wrote me a letter, but never sent it." She walked over to the writing desk and pulled an envelope from the top shelf. It was unmarked. "You were afraid that it would have gone to Mr. Holmes' home by mistake and even though he was 'dead' by then, you couldn't risk it. You wrote it the last night you were here." She handed him the letter. When she turned to Stride, he had a pistol aimed at her head. She rolled her eyes and said, "Honestly, you don't pay attention, do you?" She sighed. "All right, shoot me. Go ahead. See what happens." When he wouldn't she snatched the gun from him, pressed the barrel against her temple and squeezed the trigger. The gun fired and the bullet entered her temple. She tossed the gun aside. "See? Still alive. You can't kill me, Stride."

She sat down and wiped away the little trickle of blood running down the side of her face. A few moments later, the bullet fell out of her temple and the wound healed itself. Stride was staring at her. "I'm a FallenAngel, Stride," she said. "Don't be so surprised. But getting back to Sir Danvers' murder. If you wanted to hide who had done it, you needed to take particular steps that you so expertly ignored. You should have worn gloves so no mark of yourself would be left behind on the knife. And if any blood had gotten onto the fabric of the gloves, you should have tossed them into a fire to destroy the evidence. You obviously didn't inherit any of your mother's talent or common sense, did you?"

"Who are my parents?" he demanded. "You keep talking as though you know them. Who are they?"

"Your father was Dorian Grey," Angelique said lightly. Dr. Jekyll was reading the three page long letter he had forgotten he had written and didn't look up. "As far as your mother's name… I thought I was being painfully obvious there. But apparently, you're not quite as bright as she is."

"Who is she, you bloody wench?" Stride growled.

Angelique stood angrily. Her wings erupted from her back, black and spider-webbed in their pure anti-Celestial glory. She placed both hands on the armrests on either side of Stride and leaned towards him. "_I_ am your mother, you idiot!" she snarled. "I can't _believe_ you can't see what is so devastatingly evident to me! Can't you see it? Can't you understand it? I said she was a FallenAngel, then only minutes later explained why I can't die! The fact that I know your father's killer? She's my closest friend! Her _name_ even! It means sweet Angel! My name is Angelique. Which, if you're intelligent, you'll realise means angelic. But, since you can't even pull off a murder _and_ cover it up, you probably didn't realise that!" She backed away from him, still glaring fiercely at him. "My only child is a complete imbecile. What will I do? Can't even kill someone without someone knowing it was him! God above, what new grievance have you brought me?"

"I resent that!" Stride said, getting to his feet. "If I really am your child, how old am I and when is my birthday?"

She gave him a look of utter annoyance. "What is this? An interrogation?" she asked sarcastically. "You're twenty-eight years old and your birthday is November 23. Happy?"

"Mother!" he cried, throwing his arms around her neck and hugging her tightly.

She patted him awkwardly on the head. "Let go of me," she grumbled, pushing him away. "Congratulations, you've found your mother. Now, you need to leave me alone for the rest of eternity."

"That's not very nice, Angelique," Lucifer said, materializing in the corner from where she had heard his snickering. "You have a son. How quaint. I always knew you would be a good mother someday. Of course, I assumed you would be adopting a little brat. But this is much better. I could use him."

Angelique put herself between the Devil and her son. "Never," she said, spreading her wings to hide Stride from Lucifer. "Leave him alone. He didn't ask for this. Get out of here."

"You can't order me from this house, Angelique," he said, sneering. "You don't own it."

"True," she said lightly. "But I'm married to the man who owns it." She held up her left hand. The lamplight glinted off the gold band.

The Devil assumed a look of utter disgust. "Well, aren't you a good girl?" he sneered. Then he turned on his heel and disappeared.

"Are you really married to Dr. Jekyll?" Stride whispered.

"No, but he doesn't need to know that," she replied.

…


	15. Chapter XIV

_Chapter Fourteen:_

That night, Angelique wrote a letter to Angela in an attempt to explain to her what had happened:

_Angela—_it said—_I'm sorry Hyde and Ana Pryde left so suddenly. But you must believe me when I tell you Dr. Jekyll and I had no idea they were going to do that. At the moment, he and I are at his house on Harley Street. We cannot leave easily. Each time we set foot beyond the front step, there is always something that brings us back into the house. But you must understand that we do not stay here willingly. We honestly cannot leave._

_Continuing on, though. It appears there has been a marital union between our more disagreeable selves. How exactly this came about, we are unsure. But the horrible truth is they are married. Sister, they are married!_

_And yet, not all happenings are ill tidings. The man who will deliver this letter to you is not one I have seen in many years. His name is Simon Stride. Tell him you are my sister and he may rejoice, for he has been in search of his family. Yes, sister. This man is my son. The only child I will bare, and yet, I had nothing to do with his childhood or his up bringing. Perhaps you could explain to him why he was taken from me within his first year. His Guardian Angel is Melangell and it was she who took him from me._

_Please, Angela. Don't lose faith. We will find a way out of this mess. And together, with your help, we can find a way to save Dr. Jekyll from the illness that plagues him. Every hour that passes, he grows ever weaker._

_Give my regards to the others. Love, your sister, Angelique…_

She sealed the envelope and handed it to Stride. She gave him the address and sent him on his way. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I hope this works," she muttered.

"So, his father is Dorian Grey?" Dr. Jekyll asked, sitting in a chair near Angelique's. When she nodded, he continued, "I thought you would have more sense than to share his bed, Angelique. What happened?"

"Henry," she said, tiredly. "Every woman in the world would love to share his bed if he gave them the chance. Why do you suppose he chose to become an immortal? He loved the attention he received because he was dreadfully handsome. Which is why everyday I thank God that Mina was able to finally kill him. I was finally able to let go of the past and move on when I heard he was dead."

* * *

Angela looked up from the letter from Angelique at the man standing awkwardly before her. "So, you're Simon Stride, are you?" she asked, folding the letter and tucking it into the pocket of her coat. "I suppose I should tell you I am Angelique's sister. My name is Angela." The man didn't respond. "You should know that she didn't want to be absent from your life, Simon. It was beyond her control. Your Guardian Angel, Melangell took you from her because she thought Angelique wasn't fit to raise anything. Human, plant or animal." She sighed. "But it simply isn't in Angelique's nature to be motherly. Had it been, she would have raised you."

He swallowed and looked at the floor. "She said I disappointed her," he muttered.

Angela raised her eyebrows. "Did you kill someone?" she asked. "And then proceeded to completely botch the cover-up?" He nodded. "That's why, then. For some reason or another, she takes great pride in her ability to kill someone and not get caught. But I wouldn't worry too much about it, Mr. Stride. She'll warm up to you. I promise."

The door opened and closed of its own accord. "Angie, who's this?" Skinner asked. "Did he bring news of Angelique?"

"Why do you care, Mr. Skinner?" she asked him lightly. "I thought 'if you never saw her again for the rest of eternity, it would be too soon.' Am I wrong? Weren't those your exact words?"

"Yes, well," he said, embarrassment riddling his voice. "I was upset when I said that. She had just left after all… I miss her, Angie. I really do. Please, help me find her."

She smiled broadly and happily. "Oh, I think I can do better than that," she said, getting to her feet. She took hold of Stride's arm and pulled him towards Skinner's voice. "This is Simon Stride. The only living proof that I've come across that FallenAngels _can_ bare children." How-do-you-dos were exchanged and she continued. "Mr. Stride will take you to where she and Dr. Jekyll are staying. And you will be civil, Mr. Skinner. If you behave otherwise, I will personally see to it that certain aspects of your physical character are removed and surgically and strategically placed elsewhere. Good day." She pushed the men out of the front door and closed it.

…


	16. Chapter XV

_Chapter Fifteen:_

When she opened the door, Angelique found Stride standing too far from the door to knock himself without moving. "Are you alone, Mr. Stride?" she asked. He shook his head and someone brushed past her through the door before Stride took a step. "I see…" she muttered, allowing Stride to enter the house before closing the door. She escorted, in a sense, the two men to the sitting-room. "I'd be lying if I knew why you are here, Mr. Skinner," she said, drawing the shutters closed. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

There was no answer to her question. Movement by the writing desk caught Angelique's attention. A pen had lifted itself and dipped in an ink well and was writing in quick, hurried movements across a sheet of paper. She walked over and red the writing: _I'll say nothing until we are alone._

"I understand, Mr. Skinner," she said softly. "Mr. Stride, Mr. Skinner, I will be in my bedroom if you should need my assistance." She left the room, shutting the door behind her. When she reached for the doorknob of her room, it turned before she touched it and the door swung gently open. "Thank you," she said sweetly as she passed through the doorway. The door shut and she sat on the edge of the bed. "Rodney, what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, Angelique," he whispered near her ear. "I'm sorry for everything that's happened. But, I don't know all of what happened. I don't know how you're reacting to all this and how you think things should be handled."

"You're questioning my beliefs, then?" she asked. "I'm almost insulted, Rodney. Really. I believe in everything Angela does, except one thing. She seems to think that we shouldn't enjoy ourselves while we're in the Fallen state. I have been obeying the orders I have received from my superior. Just because he's the Devil and the orders have been rather evil, it doesn't mean I don't believe in God and that He still loves me, no matter what I have done. My faith in Him has never wavered. I have always loved Him and His Son and the things They have done for me and the people I love."

"Can you prove that to me?" he asked. "I've heard it said that once a FallenAngel has stopped fully believing in God, they forget their natural language and the Angelic Prayers."

She held her hand out. "Where are you, Rodney?" she whispered. He placed his hand in hers and she felt him sit beside her. "What I am about to tell you is the truth. You may not understand it at first, but if you listen with your heart and trust me, you will." She took a deep breath and began softly singing:

_Credo in unum Deum,_

_Patrem omnipotentem,_

_Factorem coeli et terrae,_

_Visibilium omnium_

_Et invisibilium,_

_Et in unum Dominum, Jesum Christum,_

_Filium Dei unigenitum,_

_Et ex Patre natum,_

_Ante omnia saecula,_

_Deum de Deo, lumen de lumine,_

_Deum verum de Deo vero,_

_Genitum non factum,_

_Con substantialem Patri,_

_Per quem omnia facta sunt,_

_Qui propter nos homines_

_Et propeter nostram salutem_

_Descendit de coelis._

_Et incarnates est_

_De spiritu sancto_

_Ex Maria Virgine_

_Et homo factus est,_

_Crucifixus etiam pro nobis_

_Sub Pontio Pilato,_

_Passus et sepultus est,_

_Et resurrexit tertis die_

_Secundum scripturas,_

_Et ascendit in coelum,_

_Sedet ad dexteram Patris,_

_Et iterum venturus est_

_Cum Gloria_

_Judicare vivos et mortuos,_

_Cujus regni non erit finis._

_Et in spiritum sanctum,_

_Dominum et vivificantem,_

_Qui ex Patre Tilioque procedit,_

_Qui cum Patre et Filio_

_Simul adoratur et conglorificatur,_

_Qui locutus est per prophetas,_

_Confiteor unum baptisma_

_In remissionem peccatorum,_

_Et expecto resurrectionem_

_Mortuorum,_

_Et vitam venturi saeculi,_

_Amen…_

There was a brief silence in which Skinner fully processed what she had sung before he whispered, "Amen…" Then his arms wrapped themselves around Angelique and he hugged her tighter than she ever remembered him hugging her before. She could feel him crying into her shoulder, and the fabric of her dress was soon wet with his tears. "I'm sorry, Angelique… I'm sorry…"

She pulled him into her arms and gently ran her fingers down the back of his head and along the curve of his neck, trying to comfort him. "Shh, Rodney," she whispered. "It's all right, love. I've always forgiven you."

"It's just… I doubt I can take this anymore," he said, sobbing still. "Being invisible to the world… Last night, I went to the cemetery where my parents are buried… There was a small headstone with my name on it… I'm dead to the world as well as invisible…"

"Rodney," she whispered, holding him close. "You're not dead to me. I still love you. And though I can't see you, I know when you're around me. I can still see your face when I think of you. To me, you're still the same."

"I'm beginning to think the mental strain my curse has on me will push me over the edge of sanity," he whispered, pulling gently away from her. New wrinkles in the bedcovers indicated that he had laid down. "Is it possible to go insane from being invisible?"

She shrugged, and laid next to him. "It's possible, I suppose," she said. "You could possibly lose your mind from not being able to see yourself everyday. But you wouldn't know it. If you were losing your mind, you would think you were becoming saner while the world around you has lost its head. Do you think that?"

"No," he said softly, tracing a finger along her arm. "Then I'm not going insane? Because it feels like I am."

She shook her head. "No," she said. "Besides, how do you know what losing your head feels like?"

He laughed. "That's true."

* * *

The next morning, Jekyll was on his way to the room where Angelique was sleeping to speak to her about an idea they had had when he heard her scream. He ran to her room and burst in, almost ruining the door. He found her sobbing uncontrollably and tightly hugging a man he had never seen before. "Angelique, is everything all right?" he asked, slowly walking over to the bed where the other two were sitting.

He studied the man. He was a little taller than Jekyll and had bright ginger hair and a fairly large nose. His smile was a happy and gleeful one and his green eyes were sparkling merrily. Angelique wiped away her tears and said, "Henry, can't you see it? It's Rodney!" She threw her arms around the man again and sobbed happily into his shoulder. "I can't believe it, Rodney! What happened?"

"I have you to thank, Angelique," the man said, sounding very much like Skinner. "If you had never made that antidote, I would never have been able to take it."

She pulled away from him. "Oh, I get it now," she said, her tears ceasing. "This is just a dream. In a few moments, I'll finally wake up and find myself still in that cave in Mongolia. I haven't gone anywhere. You'll still be invisible. My son will still be looking for me. Henry won't have tuberculosis. I won't have the monster within me trying to break out at any moment. So, Rodney. Let's kiss, make up and let me wake up to my living nightmare."

"Angelique," Jekyll said. "This is no dream. You're awake. And you've been invited to the engagement party for Sir Lucas's daughter, Maria. She wants you to be there, no matter what the police think of you." He handed her the invitation. It was for her, plus one.

She looked up at Jekyll. "Okay, so I'm slowly coming to terms that all this is real," she said slowly and softly. "Henry, did you want to go? You knew the Lucas girls, didn't you?"

He nodded. "I did," he said. "And I was invited, but I have to decline. Take Skinner. Have fun."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he replied. "I'm too tired to go to a Maria Lucas party anyway. You know how she is…"

"Oh, all right then," she said slowly. She looked at Skinner wearing nothing but his long coat. "But, darling, we're going to need to get you a suit to wear. The whole greatcoat-only fashion won't cut it in high society, I'm afraid." She stood and went to the closet to pick out her dress. "We'll have to match your suit to my dress, I'm sure."

"Why?" Skinner asked slowly.

Angelique looked at him, thoroughly confused. "It's high society, Rodney!" she said, almost scandalized. "It's just something they _do_! Honestly, I thought you knew that."

"I didn't grow up in London high society, like you did," he said, simply. "I grew up with the Baker Street Irregulars. The older ones, at least."

"Are you a lot younger than you've claimed to be?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Nope."

She shrugged. "Whatever, then," she said, sorting through her dresses. "Henry, could you lend him something to wear to the seamstress's? He can't very well walk around London wearing what he's wearing."

Jekyll nodded. "Absolutely," he said. "But it may be a bit snug. Is that all right?"

"It'll have to do, Henry," she said lightly, still picking out a dress.

…


	17. Chapter XVI

_Chapter Sixteen:_

"Tell me about these people we'll be seeing tonight, Kate," Skinner said as a seamstress pinned an evening suit to fit him and match her dress. They had agreed that Angelique would be Kate Bennet once again for the evening as that is who Maria knew her as.

"The people or the society?" she asked, examining the dress shop closely, while keeping an eye on the seamstress who seemed to be listening in on their conversation.

"The society."

Kate thought for a moment, then said, "If you live around here, you need cash in the bank 'cos houses 'round here are all flashy and swank. And the front bit is what's called a façade! All the people 'round here are as posh as can be; you won't see them hob-nobbing with rubbish like me. It's the snob bit—also called a façade!" She took a breath, noticed his surprised expression, then continued, "Every day, people in their own sweet way, like to add a coat of paint, and be what they ain't! That's how their little game is played—living out their masquerade: getting rich and getting laid! Who'd want to trade?"

"Turn to your right, love," the seamstress told Skinner and he obeyed.

He gave Kate a 'please continue' look. So she did. "But there's one thing I know, and I know it for sure, this disease that they've got has got no ready cure. And I'm certain life is terribly hard, when your life's a façade," she said quickly, trying to keep up with her thoughts. "Every night here one house or another is a fun house, 'cos of someone giving a party, as you see, sir!"

The seamstress, overcome by her eavesdropping, interrupted and said, "This one here tonight is rather special—am I right? It's the betrothal of Sir Lucas' daughter, Maria!"

"I don't believe we were speaking to you, madam," Kate said, a touch of irritation in her voice. "Sir Lucas, they say, is a good man. They call him 'la crème de la crème—"

"Whatever that means," Skinner muttered.

"He's no bloody better than them!" Kate said bitterly. "Nearly every one you meet when walking down a London street pretends to be a pillar of society! A model of propriety, sobriety and piety who's never even _heard_ of notoriety!" She gestured to the window, through which they could see several ladies and gentlemen walking down the sidewalk. "The ladies and gents here before you, which none of them ever admits, may have saintly looks, but they're sinners and crooks—hypocrites!"

"What does that make you, then?" Skinner asked. "Aren't you a sinner and crook?"

"Sinner, yes," she replied. "Crook, no. And I never hid it from the world that I've done wrong. Do you want to hear this or not?" He nodded. "If you live around here, you need lots of panache. If you live in town, dear, then you must cut a dash. 'Tisn't hard, dear, to create a façade!"

The seamstress accidentally stuck Skinner with a pin as she said, "You must seem to be rich and have money to burn—even though it's a bitch spending more than you earn. That's the game here, and the name is façade!"

Kate didn't like to be interrupted. "I still don't believe we were including you in our discussion," she said tartly. "Where was I? Ah, yes. One or two might look kinda well-to-do, but I betcha precious few have paid for their boots! I'm inclined to think half mankind thinks the other half is blind. Wouldn't be surprised to find they're all in cahoots! At the end of the day, they don't mean what they say, they don't say what they mean, they don't ever come clean. And the answer: it it's all a façade!" She took a breath, then continued, "Call a walk 'promenade.' Call a street 'boulevard.' Grease your hair with 'pomade' you'll be held in regard. And I betcha, if you stay on your guard, they'll all say you're a 'card.' People _love_ the façade!"

"What's behind the façade?" he asked.

"Just look behind the façade," she said, shrugging. "But, you should see for yourself. I'm slightly biased against them. I hate them all."

"Then why are you going to the party, ma'am?" the seamstress asked. "If you don't mind my saying so, but, ma'am, you're guilty of the crime you accuse them of. You seem to come off as sweet, innocent and law-abiding, but I know who you are. You're Kate Bennet—the most wanted woman in England!"

"Brilliant, madam," Kate said dryly. "Once again you've put your keen and penetrating mind to the task and as usual have come up with a solution that has irritated me. How on earth _do_ you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Go through your life knowing that people don't give a whit about what you say?"

"Kate, that was harsh and uncalled for," Skinner said, stepping off the stool.

She shrugged. "Whatever," she muttered. "Are we ready to go, finally?"

* * *

That night, Mina found her way to the attic window and pushed it open. Looking out into the dismal sight before her, she found herself speaking to no one. "Where are you, Henry?" she whispered. "I've looked all the places you aren't. I just can't find the places you are. I only know you are where I am not. And… where am I? I wish you were here to tell me…" She sighed and looked up at the sky. A single star glittered near the moon. "Perhaps if I were to wish very, very hard…" She crawled out the window and climbed the side of Angelique's house as she sang quietly:

_Come out, moon,_

_Come out, wishing star…_

_Come out, come out,_

_Wherever you are…_

_I'm out here in the dark,_

_All alone and wide awake,_

_Come and find me…_

_I'm empty and I'm cold,_

_And my heart's about to break,_

_Come and find me…_

_I need you to come here and find me,_

'_Cause without you, I'm totally lost._

_I've hung a wish on every star,_

_It hasn't done much good so far._

_I can only dream of you._

_Wherever you are…_

She sat on the roof and continued singing to herself and gazing up at the moon.

_I'll hear you laugh,_

_I'll see you smile,_

_I'll be with you._

_Just for a while._

_But when the morning comes_

_And the sun begins to rise,_

_I will lose you._

_Because it's just a dream_

_When I open up my eyes_

_I will lose you._

_I used to believe in forever,_

_But forever's too good to be true._

_I've hung a wish on every star,_

_It hasn't done much good so far._

_I don't know what else to do,_

_Except to try to dream of you_

_And wonder if you are dreaming, too._

_Wherever you are…_

She remained on the roof all night and cried…

* * *

Meanwhile, at Maria Lucas' engagement party, Kate and Skinner made their way through the crowd, while being stared at. "Kate, why are they staring at us?" he asked her in a low voice.

"Because you're supposedly dead, remember?" she replied, smiling pleasantly at the others. "And I'm the most wanted woman in England. Or did you forget?" The two found a safe corner where they could watch their surroundings without interruption and relaxed for a moment.

"Who are all these people?"

"You want to know?" she asked, surprised. He nodded. "Do you _really_ want to know?" Again, a nod. "All right." She took a breath and pointed out people as she told Skinner about them. "Lord and Lady Hare, fighting over there, darling, do beware—she's a bitch! Lady Aberdare's having an affair with the butler there! Just her niche!"

Around them, the partygoers were murmuring musings such as "Fine party—divine party—a touch tarty—but stinking rich!"

An older lady walked by, smiling at Kate, who responded, "What a pretty smile, Mrs. Grenville-Heath!" When the woman was gone, she leaned to Skinner and hissed, "Pity they are not all her teeth." She caught sight of one man she found particularly fun to mock. "Lord Devere as well. He's as queer as hell! _And_ bi-sexuelle—likes to switch!"

The chatter around them allowed certain less-than-amiable words float to their hearing. "Dee-licious! And _so_ vicious! Our one wish is to bitch, bitch, bitch!"

The butler announced, "Lady Postlewaite!"

Kate's eyes widened. "God, she's put on weight!" she muttered. "Gives you more to hate—mean, old bitch!"

"Lady Leopold!"

"Looking _really_ old," she giggled quietly to Skinner, who was beginning to understand her reasoning behind calling them all hypocrites. "_Poor_ Sir Leopold. She's a witch!"

The swish of skirts as people danced seemed to sing, "Chic people—unique people—and freak people we quickly ditch!"

"Lady Delaware!"

Kate winced. "Awful colour hair!" she muttered. "That's her lover there—with the twitch!"

"Lord and Lady Biggs!"

"What a pair of pigs," she said softly. She looked up at Skinner. "Wear each other's wigs!" Skinner read her smile and they both said, "Itch, itch, itch!"

The two laughed softly for a moment before Skinner said, "You're rather harsh to judge them like that, Kate."

"I'm not judging them, Rodney," she said, slightly insulted. "That's how they really are! I hate them all."

"Then why are you here?" a voice said behind Kate. She spun around and came face to face with a young lady who seemed a little younger than her. "Honestly, Kate. If you're intent to mock my mother's guests, why did you come at all?"

"Maria, you _know_ what they must be thinking of me," Kate said. "Why should I be kind about them? Especially when it's really _you_ I came to see!" They hugged tightly. "How I've missed you!" Kate said when they parted. "How have you been?"

"I can't complain," Maria said, looking over Kate's shoulder. "And it seems you can't, either. Kate, who is this you've been gossiping with?" She was looking Skinner over with frank approval.

Kate smiled. "Miss Lucas, may I present Mr. Rodney Skinner," she said, bringing her friend closer to her companion for the evening. "Mr. Skinner, Miss Maria Lucas." They greeted each other with slightly shy smiles that Kate ignored. "Mr. Skinner and I have had the pleasure of seeing your father recently. It was roughly a year ago, was it, Rodney?"

Maria's smile flickered before returning to its place. "Ah, yes, my father," she said gravely. "I'm afraid he won't be joining us this evening. For the past eleven months, he's been dreadfully ill. He won't wake ever from sleep, and yet he has violent symptoms of poisoning. It's a wonder he's still alive."

"I shouldn't wonder," Kate muttered to herself before she realised that she said. She hoped Maria hadn't heard her. "It's a pity," she said to her friend. "He was the picture of health when we saw him. A bit twitchy, but healthy none the less."

Maria nodded solemnly. "He's been twitchy, as you say, since the Jack the Ripper murders began," she said lowly. "I'm not sure why, though. The Ripper had chosen known prostitutes for his victims, I believe, and my father could certainly not be characterized as a prostitute. Unless there's something about him I don't know…" She sipped from the glass she held in her hand. "Of course, the murder spree of that one woman who killed for money began about that same time. But there was no pattern to her victims as far as I understood. What do you suppose he was afraid of?"

"Truthfully?" Kate asked. Maria nodded. "I believe he was afraid of that woman who murdered by request. She held a grudge against him, if I'm not mistaken. I believe he had poisoned her own father before her eyes when she was a child."

"Kathryn!" Maria said, shocked. "I can't believe you would accuse my father of such a thing! He would never hurt a fly!" She took a step from Kate. "Unless, you knew her personally. You did, didn't you?"

"I'd be lying if I said I don't know her still," Kate replied casually. Skinner looked like he wanted to explode in a fit of laughter. But a glare from Kate shut him up quickly. "Honestly, Maria. There's a lot about me that you don't quite understand yet."

Maria looked at her closely. "You knew her," she repeated. "And yet you did not send her name to Scotland Yard. Why? What could you gain by protecting her?"

"Have you never wondered why I left England so swiftly?" Kate asked, adjusting her dress. "Why my name is near the top of Scotland Yard's Most Sought list? Why I'm scorned in higher society now?" She looked Maria in the eyes. "Maria Lucas, if you were ever my friend, if ever you had one thought of compassion for me, you would stop questioning me. Continuing to do so may cost me my freedom in the country of my birth. I've left once, I cannot do it again. Not when one of my dearest friends is deathly ill and needs my help most direly."

The younger woman looked shocked by Kate's words. But before either of them could speak, another young woman bitterly said, "When have you ever cared about someone else in your life, Kitty?"

Kate visibly grit her teeth before she turned. "Lydia," she said coldly. "How are you, dear sister?" Maria took this opportunity to take hold of Skinner's arm and drag him away from the sisters. "It's been, what? Thirteen years since we last met? Too short a time, if you ask me my opinion."

"No one wants to hear _your_ opinion, Kate," Lydia spat. "I'm surprised you came at all. I half expected you to still be running from the police. It's been fourteen years since you killed Mr. Zephyr, hasn't it?"

"I didn't kill him, Lydia."

Lydia laughed haughtily. "Perhaps if you continue to tell yourself that, you may begin to believe it," she said, trying to provoke Kate into possible violence. "But, honestly, aren't you still running from the law? I wasn't aware that people wanted for murder were allowed out into society."

Kate was struggling to take the high road and not give into her sister's taunting. "Well, when you've been pardoned of past crimes for helping the British Crown, you're allowed to be social again," she said.

"Really," Lydia responded dryly. "I was under the impression that you recently had several dead men in your kitchen. Am I wrong?"

"No," Kate said slowly. "But I didn't kill them. An associate of mine did in self-defence. The last man I killed was a threat to all mankind. And really, it wasn't me who put the bullet in his skull. I only set him up to be shot. Now, if you'll excuse me…" She tried walking away from her sister, but Lydia wanted to disgrace her.

"You can walk away from me and our family, Kathryn," she called after Kate. "But you can't walk away from your past. You're a murderer, Kate. Once you've killed for the first time, you will always remain a murderer. And that will never change. No matter how many times you're pardoned by the Crown. You will always be known as the woman who murdered by request. You will always be known as the woman who killed for the scientific advances of poisoning. You will never be forgiven of your crimes in the Courts of God!" The entire room grew silent at Lydia's words.

Kate turned to face her sister quickly. Anger was apparent in her eyes. "What do _you_ know of crime, punishment and forgiveness in the Court of God?" she demanded. "You have no idea what Heaven is like! I've had my orders, from whom I serve! Whether you believe that I serve God or not is your decision. But you have no _bloody idea_ what God will punish me with! So, for the sake of sanity, leave me be!" She spun around, ignoring the looks she was receiving from the crowd of people about her and walked to the balcony for some fresh air. She had lost Skinner in the crowd and she didn't care to find him any time soon. He would probably scold her for her outburst, anyway.

She leaned on the balustrade and breathed in the brisk February air. She sighed and tried to get her mind off of Lydia's cruelty. "Miss Bennet," a male voice said from her left. "I couldn't help but overhear your argument with your sister. I believe you and I'm sorry for her harshness of word."

She didn't look over at her companion, but she knew who it was. "Mr. Holmes," she said, tiredly. "I simply wish to be rid of her and the rest of my family. The only one who really understood me was Elizabeth and I haven't seen her in over ten years."

"Sometimes you can't rid yourself of family," he said softly. "After all, they're your flesh and blood. Can you honestly be rid of them? No one knows for certain."

Kate sighed. "I suppose you're right," she admitted. "Mr. Holmes, there is a favour I need to ask of you."

"Ask away, Miss Bennet."

"It seems some time ago, someone managed to slip a bit of Dr. Jekyll's transformation formula into my drink without my knowledge," she said, twisting the truth slightly. "Since then, I have suffered the same transformations as Dr. Jekyll has, although they come of their own accord. Dr. Jekyll and I have been working to find an antidote to the formula and have had very little success because of the monsters that reside within us. They have done all they can to keep us from finding it. Recently, their attempts have gotten completely out of control. They have removed us from my own home on Baker Street and relocated us into his home on Harley Street. There they have managed to keep us. On my desk in my study is the unfinished antidote that I'm certain will work properly to save us from ourselves. It only needs to be finished and swallowed."

Mr. Holmes was silent for a moment, seemingly trying to decide what to do. "And you need me to finish it and bring it to you?" he asked. She nodded. He thought for a moment longer, then said, "I swear I shall do my best, Miss Bennet. Where is Dr. Jekyll now?"

"He's at home, suffering from exhaustion and tuberculosis," she explained quietly. "He was invited, but thought it best if he spent the evening resting. Thank you for your help."

…


	18. Chapter XVII

_Chapter Seventeen:_

Jekyll bid Kate and Skinner good-bye as they left for Maria Lucas' engagement party, sent Stride home, locked the front door against outside distractions, and resigned himself to a quiet evening at home to contemplate his dilemma and find a way to remedy it. The dilemma was, of course, Hyde, his tuberculosis, and finding his way back to Mina from Kate—Angelique—whatever her name was. So really, it was more like his _dilemmas_ rather than his _dilemma_.

He kept his handkerchief tightly in his left hand as he dug through his medical books in the library, searching for something that could help him battle his illness. He found very little beyond the little red spatterings on his handkerchief as he violently coughed up blood and lung tissue. He threw his glasses on the table before him in his frustration as the library clock struck a quarter to midnight. Angelique and Skinner had not returned from the party, but Jekyll was unconcerned. As he told Angelique, he knew how Maria Lucas' parties tended to be.

Jekyll quietly made his way toward his bedroom to sleep. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. As he reached for the doorknob, however, it turned and the door swung silently and slowly open. Which was odd to the doctor on various levels—he didn't open the door, it usually swung very quickly, and it made the most noise of all the many doors in the house. Cautiously, he peered into his room. There, hidden in the dark shadows on the edge of the light cast by the lamp in Jekyll's hand, stood a man Jekyll wasn't sure he knew.

The man laughed sinisterly and said, "Dr. Jekyll. It's an honour to see you this evening when you would allow no one else the opportunity to do the same." He walked towards the ailing doctor, into the light and Jekyll recognised him as the Devil. He laughed again and said, "Yes, I am he. I've merely come to wish you a happy Christmas." He placed a hand on Jekyll's shoulder as he passed him on his way out of the house.

The front door shut and an immense sense of hunger stole over Jekyll. Disregarding sleep for the moment, he made his way to the kitchen. Before he reached it, however, a violent fit of coughing seized him. He pressed his handkerchief to his mouth and he leaned on the hall desk for support. But he lost his balance, despite his efforts and fell to his knees. A moment later, he fell to the floor and his vision went black.

* * *

When Angelique and Skinner returned to Jekyll's home, she had a raging headache and a fuming mood. They walked up to the door and she stopped. "Something's not right," she whispered. "Something is very wrong." She pushed the door open and walked in. "Henry?" she called into the dark house. She removed her greatcoat and hung it on a hook by the door and began looking for the doctor. "Henry? Are you all right? Where are you?"

Skinner joined her in the search. "He's not in the library," he said, closing the door. "Do you suppose he's in the laboratory?"

"Heavens, I hope not," she muttered as they hurried to the laboratory. Through the house and courtyard, past the old surgical theatre to the room beyond it. They tried the door. Locked. "I don't see any movement inside," Angelique said, peering in through the dust-covered window beside the door. "And there's no light on."

"That doesn't mean he's not in there," Skinner said, trying to open the locked door again. "He could've locked himself inside and kept the lights off."

While Skinner rapidly shook the door, Angelique looked around them for any sign that Dr. Jekyll had recently been there. Light from the streetlamps, shining over the property fence, glinted off a metal object laying on the flagstone path from the house to the laboratory, catching her attention. She bent and picked it up. It was a broken, rusted key. The key opened the laboratory door, but it had been exposed to the elements for quite some time, judging by the rust on the broken edges. "Rodney," she said softly. "I don't think he's in there."

He turned to look at her. "Where else would he be?" he asked.

She held up the rusted key and tried it in the door. Though covered with rust and rendered nearly useless, it turned in the lock and the door swung freely open, creaking as it did. The two cautiously walked into the laboratory, looking around them. Everything everywhere was covered in years of dust and cobwebs. The sight made Angelique somewhat sad. "The last time I was in here," she whispered. "Everything was in pristine order. He took great care of everything and made sure it was attended to with a dust cloth or something. He never would let it get to this point of disuse."

"He hasn't been in this house for years, Angelique," Skinner said. "Remember?"

She nodded. Then pointed to the floor. There were two sets of boot prints. A large pair, and a smaller, petite pair. Theirs. And no others. "He's not here," she said. "If he's home at all, he must be in the house. Come on." She ran back to the house and called for Dr. Jekyll again. She could hear faint sounds of pain coming from the kitchen. She entered, looking and calling for Dr. Jekyll. He wasn't in the kitchen, so she went through the other door and nearly tripped over him, laying on the hall floor. "Henry!" she said, shocked and kneeling beside him. She gently turned him onto his back and brought his head onto her lap. "Henry, can you hear me?" He didn't respond. "Whether you can or not, listen to me. I spoke to Mr. Holmes at Maria's party. He's agreed to help us as much as is in his power to do so. You will finally be rid of Mr. Hyde. Forever." Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and slid down her cheeks. "Please, be strong. Let me save you. _Help_ me save you…"

"Oh, isn't this sweet?"

Angelique looked up and saw the Devil standing in the other end of the hall. She stiffened and pulled Dr. Jekyll into her arms, in a better attempt to protect him. "What are you doing here?" she asked, bitterness in her voice. "What did you do to him?"

Lucifer held a hand to his heart. "Oh, Angelique, I'm hurt," he said, mocking her and walking towards her. Skinner ran into the hall behind Angelique and stopped, his hand on her shoulder. "Thinking that all I do is hurt the people you care about." He looked up and saw Skinner standing behind her. "I thought you were invisible."

"I was," Skinner replied shortly. "What do you want?"

The Devil shook his head. He held his hand out flat, as though he was holding something, and blew across his palm. A bitter chill settled in the hallway. Dr. Jekyll shuddered in Angelique's arms and a soft moan escaped his lips. "Nothing," the Devil said and disappeared.

"Damn him," Angelique muttered. "Can't go anywhere without causing trouble." She concentrated and let her wings out. Standing carefully so as not to jar Dr. Jekyll too much, she picked him up and cradled him in her wings and carried him to his bedroom.

As she laid him down on his bed and pulled a blanket over him, she felt something enter the room. Spinning around, she saw a young Demon in the darkest corner of the room. "What are you and what do you want?" she asked it.

"My name is Malady," it said, its voice hoarse. "I'm here to watch over his sickness."

"Get out." The Demon wouldn't move. "Get _out_." Angelique threw a small crucifix at it. The crucifix hit the Demon in the forehead and burned it. The Demon hissed at her and crawled out of sight. Angelique turned her attention back to Dr. Jekyll. "I will help you, Henry. I promise. If only you'll let me."

…


	19. Chapter XVIII

_Chapter Eighteen:_

During the next few days, Angelique never left Jekyll's bedside as he lay there, dieing. She cared for him without fail. If he ever needed anything, she was there with it and a fresh handkerchief for his use. In the evenings, Skinner would watch from the darkened doorway as she tended to his ailing friend. Unreasonable jealousy consumed him as he watched her. He knew he shouldn't be jealous, but he couldn't help it. The envy was powerful and it devoured him more each time he saw her gently wiping Jekyll's brow with a damp cloth and softly singing to him.

Then, one evening three days after Maria Lucas' engagement party, near Christmas Eve, there was a knock at the front door. Angelique looked up from Jekyll over to Skinner. "Rodney, love," she said softly. "Will you get that, please?"

He nodded silently and went to the door, fuming in his internal anguish. He wanted her attention, but knew he couldn't steal it from his dieing friend. He opened the door and found a smartly dressed gentleman standing on the front step. The man tipped his hat to Skinner and said, "Good evening. My name is Sir William Gull. I was told that Miss Kathryn Bennet has been staying here for the past week. May I speak with her?"

Skinner eyed the man warily. "How do you know Miss Bennet?" he asked. He was always suspicious of the men Angelique knew when she was Kate. They tended to be unscrupulous characters. He expected nothing less from this Sir William Gull, no matter how high-society he seemed. Besides the fact that she had explained to him the brutal hypocrisy the high-society of London held.

"We've been close friends for quite a number of years," the gentleman explained, smiling. "We were actually working together on a Chemical Experiment that she inexplicably terminated some years ago. Is she in?"

"Aye," Skinner nodded. Then he decided to play the loyal servant role. "But, she's unavailable due to the illness of her dear friend, Dr. Jekyll. Shall I inform her of your visit? She will be able to return the call when Dr. Jekyll is well enough to be left alone."

Sir William Gull shook his head and concern crossed his face. "No, no. I'm afraid that will not do," he said. "I must speak with her immediately. It concerns a matter of great importance. If you would inform her that I am here and tell her I bring news regarding her novel, I would appreciate it."

"Yes, sir," Skinner nodded, quietly shutting the door, but not latching it. He quickly made his way to Jekyll's bedroom, where he knocked softly. "Angelique, there's a man at the door. He's asking for Kate, bringing news regarding her novel. What should I tell him?"

She looked thoughtful. "Did he have a kindly, dear gentleman look to him?" she asked. Skinner nodded. "And did he answer to the name Sir William Gull?" Again, Skinner nodded. She sighed and stood. "Very well. I will see him. Please, watch over Henry while I am out." Skinner took her place at Jekyll's bedside as she swept out of the room.

* * *

Once again assuming the nom de plume, Kate Bennet, she opened the door. Outside, waiting patiently on the step, as promised, was Sir William Gull. His disinterested expression turned to one of unexpressed joy when he saw her in the doorway. "Miss Bennet!" he said, cheerily. "So good to see you again! May I come inside?"

"How dare you come here?" she demanded lowly. "When you are fully aware I want nothing to do with you ever again. Not after what you did to Lydia. Poor, stupid girl that she was, you have made her a bitter shrew! Three nights ago, I was forced to endure her bitter accusations at sweet Maria Lucas' engagement party! Heavens, the mortification sweet Maria suffered. There's not a possible way for me to show my face in polite society again."

Sir William Gull looked nothing less than indifferent to her verbal assault. "Miss Bennet, you know I had every good intention for your sister," he said. "Whatever happened to her since her marriage is nothing against my name. I suppose she knows exactly _how_ you've gone about your studies to make such bold accusations, then?"

"Nothing against your name?" Kate repeated. "Hardly! You married her only to save face! You had no intention to make her happy. You were merely hoping for some pocket change she may have had jingling in her purse, then dispose of her like you did those other poor women!"

The man looked around them nervously. "Perhaps we could continue this conversation indoors, Miss?" he suggested. "I'm certain the direction you wish to take it will result in nothing less than either of our arrests."

She raised an eyebrow. "So you're willing to talk about it now?" she asked. "Now, when it doesn't matter anymore?" He nodded. Looking down the street, then behind her into the house, she sighed. "All right. Fine. But we must remain quiet. My patient is in no condition for loud or rude awakenings." She walked away, leaving the door open for him to follow her. Which he did, closing the door behind him. She led him from the front door to the library where she bade him sit and closed the door. "Now what?"

He perched on the seat he had taken as though it was a throne and he was the King of England. "Miss Bennet, I know you're upset, but I can't imagine why," he said delicately, obviously trying to avoid a screaming row.

"That's rich," she muttered, leaning against the door. "You made my sister, my sweet and innocent, albeit slightly careless, sister believe you were in love with her! Then you convinced her to run away with you to be married! If it hadn't been for our dear friend, Mr. Darcy, you would have killed her!"

"I most certainly would not have," he protested. "I've never killed a lady in my life!"

Kate smirked. "Excuse me, then," she said sarcastically. "You wouldn't have killed her—you would've _slaughtered_ her!" Sir William Gull nodded almost emphatically. "But, you couldn't slaughter your own wife. So, my family was forever in the debt of good Mr. Darcy." She sighed and leaned against the door harder. "I've never been able to quite figure out _why_, though. If you could explain that, I would appreciate it."

"Why what?"

"Why you killed those women," she clarified. "And don't say you don't know what I'm talking about, because I know you do." She ticked off the names on her fingers as she said them, "Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, Mary Jane Kelly… I'm sure there's more that you killed that the police don't consider to be your victims. Why did you do it?"

He cleared his throat. "You have to realise that I would never have let you live once you had found out my secret," he said, getting to his feet. "After all, I can't have witnesses. But, once I learned _your_ dirty little secret, I let you live. You remember, I made you swear on pain of death you wouldn't report me?" She nodded silently. "But as for why… Medical study, obviously. Like you, I used murder to advance my knowledge of my subject."

"But I never murdered so savagely," she replied, her expression stony.

He held a hand up. "Please, let me continue," he said. "There is one more reason that isn't quite on the surface of it all." He paused and collected himself. "Even in your presence, I hesitate to reveal it…" He seemed almost embarrassed by his secret reason.

"What is your reason?" she prompted him. She was really curious. She wanted to know why he murdered the unfortunate women of Whitechapel District. Ever since she had stumbled upon him writing the 'From Hell' letter with what appeared to be human blood. She later discovered it was merely red ink.

But Sir William Gull didn't answer her question. He walked over to her, pinning her to the door with nowhere to go. He pulled out a long, sharp knife. Slowly, he pulled it across her left cheek, drawing a small river of blood. She could feel the warm, sticky liquid roll down her skin. He leaned toward her and licked it off her cheek. "Blood," he whispered in her ear, his hands wandering the fabric of her dress. "Blood is the life. I have often desired the blood of others. Particularly of women. It gives me more pleasure than your sister's bed could ever offer me."

Kate shuddered involuntarily. "You sound like a Vampire," she whispered.

He laughed lowly and enticingly. "But Vampires aren't as real," he saidand gently rubbed the rest of her blood off her cheek with his snake-like tongue. Kate could feel the wound he created with his sharp blade heal as he did so. "What's this?" he muttered, turning her head to examine her skin where not even a faint white line of a scar could be seen. "There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there, Kate?" he asked her, his left hand finding its way to her wrists and taking hold of them. "What is it that makes you so unique? What is it that I have lusted for in your blood?" He made another thin cut along her throat. The wound was insignificant, true, but it bled. He held her hands in a strong grip so she couldn't fight back, and he sucked on her throat.

She could feel Ana Pryde surfacing in her mind. Her wicked side uttered a small moan of unadulterated pleasure. Kate decided to not let her enjoy herself too much. _You're enjoying this, aren't you?_ she asked her.

_Absolutely. Hyde's good, but he could never do _this_. Stop talking; you're ruining it._

Kate decided to ruin the moment for Ana Pryde. _You're married. Remember?_

_I don't care. If you keep talking, I'm going to take over completely._

_He wouldn't like that. The transformations aren't smooth enough for you to pull it off without him noticing you've changed,_ Kate reminded her.

_True. But I can still take complete control of your mind. It's a trick I picked up from Hyde._ Ana Pryde snickered. _Ta!_

Kate could feel her lose all control of her body and mind. Ana Pryde took over and thoroughly enjoyed herself at the hands of the most notorious man in all London. All Kate could do was watch in horror from the recesses of Ana Pryde's mind. It was almost grotesque.

Ana Pryde managed to slip one hand out of his grasp and turn the key in the door's lock as she felt the scratch on her throat heal. Sir William Gull stopped his attack on her neck and looked her in the eyes. "Yours tastes different, Kit," he said, his voice husky. "I can't place it. But it's different."

"Mmm," she murmured, taking in his scent of pomegranate juice. "Is that a bad thing?" she asked, looking up into his eyes alluringly. She bit her lower lip slowly, but with enough pressure to tear the skin.

"No," he said, distracted by the small droplet of blood forming on her lip. "It's not bad at all." He pressed her against the locked door and kissed her, sucking on her lower lip. His arms snaked around her waist and he pulled her to him, apparently trying to force her to meld her body with him. His lips left hers, but travelled down to her delicate jaw, pausing only briefly to whisper something she didn't quite catch, before continuing on, leaving a trail of kisses down her throat to the low collar of her dress. His hands crawled up her back and began unbuttoning her dress, loosening the fabric around her ever-elusive bosom, where he began to satisfy his sensuous desire.

"Kate! Kate, are you all right?" Skinner had apparently abandoned his post at Dr. Jekyll's bedside and was pounding on the library door.

Ana Pryde retreated into the recesses of Kate's mind and the latter was able to gain full control of her body and mind once again. "My husband!" she whispered, before thinking about which word she used.

"You're married?" Sir William Gull asked her, shocked and bringing the fact she had called her true love her husband to her attention.

She decided to play off it. "Yes, I'm married," she said, quickly buttoning up her dress as Skinner continued to pound on the door and shake it. "If I'm not mistaken, you are too!"

"That didn't stop you," he said, smiling lewdly. She slapped him soundly across the face. Instantly, his expression contorted to one of rage. His knife was in his hand and the blade in her stomach. He pulled the knife towards the ceiling, slicing her flesh in an upward motion. "Try to instantly heal that, Kit. See you in the after life." He pulled the knife out of her and disappeared out the library window.

She fell against the door, then fell to her knees. She managed to unlock the door and let Skinner in before she lost all consciousness. The last thing she remembered was Skinner crying, "Angelique!" Then nothing for the longest of times…

…


	20. Chapter XIX

_Chapter Nineteen:_

_He held out his hand and took hers, leading her up the stairs of his large, beautiful library. He took her to a room she had seen once before and closed the door. He pulled her into his arms and started kissing her. Numbed by what had happened to her to put her in this situation, she reacted instinctively._

_Nine months later, she was laying in her bed at her lodging house and she was screaming in agony. As she screamed, she cursed him for doing this to her. She cursed him for making her leave the library when that was where she wanted to stay. Then her pain was over. The woman with her placed a crying baby into her arms, saying, "It's a boy, miss." But she wasn't listening to the woman. She was preoccupied with adoring the tiny child she initially didn't want._

_But when a third woman entered the room, the happy mother's heart filled with dread. The woman took the child from his mother. The mother started crying, "No! Melangell, don't take him from me! You can't take him! Don't take my baby!"_

_The woman, Melangell, sneered at the sobbing mother. "Angelique," she spat. "You are completely incapable of caring for this child. Don't waste your energy for you will never find him and you will never see him again." Then the woman was gone…_

Angelique woke suddenly, gasping for breath. There was a terrible pain in her stomach. She looked around and saw Rodney Skinner sitting in a chair beside her bed, fast asleep. She reached out a hand and lightly touched his knee, whispering, "Rodney?"

His head jerked up and he looked bleary-eyed across the room before his vision focused, then down at her. "Angelique!" he cried, throwing himself on her and holding her tightly. "You're alive! Thank God! You're alive!"

"Yes, love," she said, pushing him off her so she could breathe. "I'm alive."

"Are you all right?" he asked, brushing her hair from her face. "Jekyll had to realign your organs and bind you back together. How're you feeling?"

She shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess," she muttered. "Honestly, I didn't expect to live through that…"

He stared at her. "You're an Angel," he said. "You can't die."

She smiled. "I know. But have you ever heard of a Jack the Ripper victim to survive an attack?"

"That was Jack the Ripper?" he asked. "No wonder I didn't like him… Are you _sure_ you're all right?"

"I told you, I'll be fine." She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "But how did you know to look for me?"

There was a brief pause of silence before Skinner spoke, "It was at Jekyll's command, actually. I was doing as you asked me and he woke up suddenly. And he spoke using a tone I had never heard from him before. It was panic and worry and concern and urgency all at once. He said, 'go find Ana. Go find Ana.' And I asked him why Ana. Then he said, 'Kate. Go find her.' And so I did. I assumed you would be in the library. But I don't know why." He took her hand and she opened her eyes and looked at him. "What did he do to you?"

She winced at the memory. "You don't want to know," she muttered. "Trust me. You don't." She cast her eyes about the room. They came to rest on a figure in the doorway. "Henry! I didn't see you there! I suppose I have you to thank, then?"

Henry Jekyll walked into the room, smiling and blushing. Smiling that she was awake and fine. Blushing at her words. "I just came by to see how you were," he said quietly. He had reverted to his quieter self again. "And to make sure you healed over before you start getting out and about." Skinner moved out of his way and the doctor checked under the bandages around Angelique's middle. He replaced the bandages and her blankets and smiled. "As I expected. You're completely healed. Though, I assume that will be rather sore for a few days. And you'll be tired."

"Thank you, Henry," she said softly.

Henry Jekyll walked to the door, where he paused and looked back. "Incidentally, you have a visitor, Angelique," he said. "He's brought you a gift from Baker Street. What shall I tell him?"

She smiled. "That I'll be there as soon as I am able," she replied. "I daresay I cannot receive any visitors dressed the way I am." The doctor smiled, then left, closing the door. "All right, Mr. Not-Invisible Anymore, help me out of bed." Skinner took her by the arm and she slid out from under the bedcovers and to the floor. He helped her keep her balance as she walked slowly and painfully to the wardrobe. She pulled out a looser fitting indigo dress and Skinner helped her into it. "Mr. Holmes will have to take my hair the way it is, for I've no energy to do anything with it," she muttered. "All right. Take me to him, please."

A few minutes later, Angelique, once again called Kate, walked slowly into the sitting-room, where Mr. Holmes and Henry Jekyll were waiting for her to arrive. "Gentlemen," she said, smiling pleasantly, as though she had never been injured or a particularly cruel woman in her entire life. She gently sat herself in a chair beside the fire and looked over at Mr. Holmes, who was sitting opposite her. "Mr. Holmes, thank you for coming. I hope you were able to find everything easily in my rather tumultuously arranged study?"

"Absolutely, Miss Bennet," he said. "I have brought with me two vials of the antidote that you and Dr. Jekyll had semi-concocted." He held out two glass vials of a clear liquid to her. She took them and, without looking at them, set them on the small table beside her. "It is my sincerest hope that they perform to your satisfaction. As you are aware, I am not accustomed to creating antidotes to formulas I have never come across and am unfamiliar with. I did my best."

"That's all I ever asked of you, Mr. Holmes," she said, her eyes drifting across the room. She saw some movement outside the window in the bushes. Clearly, she could see a man sitting there, watching the goings-on inside the room. It was Sir William Gull. "Mr. Skinner, would you be so kind as to help me up?" Skinner helped Kate to her feet and she slowly started walking to Henry Jekyll's desk. "Mr. Holmes, I wonder if you would join me at the desk? I had a question for you that I doubt very much Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Skinner wish to hear."

Mr. Holmes joined Kate at the desk and asked, "What is it? What's wrong?" She knew he knew she didn't have to ask him a question. "You look slightly pale. And you're acting strange. I know you're injured, but that's no reason for you to be so pleasant."

She quickly collected herself. "Yes, well, there's a reason for that," she said matter-of-factly. "Outside the window, I'm sure you've noticed, is a man hiding in the bushes, looking in through the window." He nodded that he had noticed. "I'm sure you've deduced that he's not supposed to be there." Another nod. "But, I'm not sure if you've deduced that he is Sir William Gull and the man who attacked me in Dr. Jekyll's library three days before Christmas Eve."

"Sir William Gull?" he asked quietly. "That's interesting. As far as I was informed, he was your younger sister's husband. Am I correct?" Kate nodded. "Why then, would he attack you and leave you for dead?"

"I'm not sure if it's common knowledge in England," she said in an undertone. "But, my sister hates me more than the Devil. As for why _he_ attacked me, I'm not sure. But I want him in Scotland Yard's custody, if that's at all possible. Once he is, I will explain my reasoning in greater detail. Will you take care of it for me, Mr. Holmes?"

He nodded. "Yes, Miss Bennet," he said, turning to help her back to her seat. They both glanced at the window. Sir William Gull was gone. "Of course, I wish to be present while you and Dr. Jekyll take the antidote in the chance that something may go awry. Is that tolerable?"

Henry Jekyll nodded. "I don't see why not," he said, smiling welcomingly. "Unless Miss Bennet has reasons of her own to the contrary… Kate?"

She didn't answer immediately. "Excuse me, gentlemen," she said, reaching for her greatcoat, which happened to be by the door. "I must go. I'll return as soon as I possibly can. Forgive me." She pulled her greatcoat on over her dress and rushed out of the house, her energy suddenly renewed, giving her strength.

Kate ignored the sharp pain in her stomach as she walked quickly down the sidewalk towards Baker Street. She nearly slipped in the snow as she rounded a corner, but a hand caught her elbow before she could fall. She looked up and saw Sir William Gull smiling pleasantly down at her. "I can't believe the nerve you have," she muttered, yanking her arm from him, also smiling pleasantly, completing the façade London would rather see. "I would have thought you would be home, snivelling like the coward you are." She continued walking at a quick pace.

He walked alongside her. "I find snivelling to be rather suspicious in a man of my character," he said lowly. "Wouldn't you agree?"

She caught a glimpse of a long, shining blade in an interior pocket of his greatcoat. "Your character is repulsive," she replied, returning her attention to her task at hand. "How you are able to look me in the eye after all you've done to me and my family confounds me."

"I believe the explanation is years of practice and a lack of empathy," he said, nodding to a London Lady as the two passed her. "Both of which I have held securely under my command. The same could be said of you."

"That's true," she said, nodding slightly. "Of course, I was never animalistic about it. _I_ never disembowelled my victims and carried off their uteri. But, as I seem to recall, _you_ did. That's the difference between us, Sir William. That, and I was actually paid to dispose of my victims, unlike you."

He chuckled lowly, making her skin crawl with revulsion. "If you say so, Miss Bennet," he said. "My question is this, however, how the blazes are you already walking around town—and in so quick a manner, I might add—after sustaining an injury such as the one I gave you? You couldn't have survived it if you were human. Therefore, you aren't human. But, even if you were a Goddess, you couldn't have healed it so quickly without some help. So, tell me, Miss Bennet. How did you do it?"

Kate stopped walking suddenly, in the process of crossing the street. The two stood directly in the centre of the roadway and she glared at him. "Listen to me, William, because I'm only going to say this _once_. I never repeat myself," she growled. "Whether or not Lydia told you I suffered tuberculosis at age six, I didn't survive it. I _died_ because of my illness. But, because I was only a child when I died, the sweet Lord God I so readily worship allowed me to continue to live on the earth with my family and grow up as a normal child would. The only difference—I was not a normal child. I was dead—in a sense. I lived and interacted with people and carried out my grisly occupation—but as an _Angel_. That's why you can't kill me, you idiot. I can't die _again_. And as for healing so quickly, I had the aid of Dr. Jekyll to realign the organs you so carefully ignored and sliced through and sew me together again." She took a deep breath, reinstated her false smile and asked, "Did I forget anything?"

"An Angel?" he asked. "I doubt it." A hansom drove by them, the driver yelling at them to get out of the road. Sir William Gull dragged her onto the next sidewalk. "But, it is an incredible story, Miss Bennet. You should consider writing a book on it."

Kate continued her journey to Baker Street. Sir William Gull followed her. "So, you're content to continue to play your—what was it?—your 'funny little games'," she muttered. "Fine. I'll play along. But I'm changing the rules. I'm adding the supernatural."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"FallenAngels, other Angels, Invisible Men, Men who turn into Monsters, God, the Devil, Demons," she said, ticking the people she named off on her fingers. "And, of course, Vampires."

He shook his head. "Angels, FallenAngels, God and the Devil?" he repeated. "Those I can pretend to accept as real. But Invisible Men, Men who turn into Monsters, Demons and Vampires? Miss Bennet, you read far too many books. You _know_ Vampires can't be real."

Kate stopped walking. "Vampires can't be real?" she repeated. "Are you insane? One of my closest friends is a Vampire, and another of my closest friends married her! Vampires exist, Sir William Gull. It's all a matter of believing it to be true. Now, if you will excuse me, I must call on my Vampire friend now." She hailed a hansom and drove away, giving the driver the address.

…


	21. Chapter XX

_Chapter Twenty:_

Angelique paid the driver and stepped out of the hansom and onto the sidewalk outside her home. As she looked up at the building, she was reminded of all the memories its walls held. She slowly walked to the front door, climbing the steps. She paused and debated knocking. Realising that it was still her house and she still had the key, she unlocked the door and walked in. Closing the door, she called, "Mina? Are you here?"

Mina walked out of the sitting-room and saw Angelique. An instant later, she had her shoved against the wall, with her hand clutching her throat. "How _dare_ you come back here!" Mina growled. "After all you have done to hurt the League. After all you've done to break so many hearts. _Some_ of us only wanted to _help_ you once we found you! Why are you here?"

The FallenAngel pushed the Vampire away from her. "Let me explain myself," Angelique replied after coughing violently. "One, this is _my_ house and I may come and go as I please. Two, I've come to escort you to Henry's home on Harley Street. Mr. Holmes, as I'm sure you've noticed, has finished the antidote to the formula. Henry is going to take his tonight and I thought you should be there to support him."

"And what of you?" Mina asked. "I'm sure he would rather _you_ be there instead of me. Apparently, he's more in love with you than he is with me. Why should I go?"

"You're his _wife_, Mina!" Angelique cried, shocked by her friend's harsh words. "He loves _you_, not me. Please, you must believe me!"

"Why should I?" Mina replied icily. "You've brought nothing but trouble to the League since you first joined our ranks. You left Skinner—broke Sawyer's heart—came back and left Skinner again! You've done nothing but hurt them!"

Angelique shook her head. "That's not true," she said softly. "I helped bring you and Henry together…" She sighed. "Mina, I'm not proud of what I've done to hurt them. And no one can know how sorry I am that I did all that. Lord knows, I was loyal only to myself. I was selfish. But now… Now, I want to try to make it up to you all by helping Henry with the antidote to the formula. I've done all I can to help him. Now he needs you. Mina. You should go to him."

"He doesn't love me anymore, Angelique!" she screamed. "It's you! It's _been_ you for the longest time! I could see that a year ago when you joined us. The way he looked at you, spoke with you, treated you. Lord! He's always treated you as though you were a goddess! Though he claimed he feared you at times, especially when you were angry or scared, he worshiped the ground on which you stood! He still does! He would speak your name in his sleep. Never mine." Mina was crying and drawing Nemo, Angela and Sawyer out of the rooms in which they were hiding. "Do you know how that feels?"

"Mina, listen to me," Angelique said earnestly, tears coming to her own eyes. "He doesn't love me. I know he doesn't. I've heard him speak in his sleep as well. I have never once heard him utter my name. It was always yours. _Yours_, Mina. Not mine. Not Angela's. Yours. If that leaves you with any doubt, perhaps you should reconsider. Perhaps it's you who doesn't love him anymore."

Mina walked directly to Angelique and slapped her sharply across the face. "How _dare_ you accuse me of not loving my husband," she growled. "It was you who took him from me, wench! And it was you who kept him from me. You. It was you who allowed Hyde and Ana Pryde to wed. You didn't stop them, either, I suppose from going to their bridal bed. Did you, Angelique?" She paused and an odd expression crossed her face. "No. I can't call you that. It means Angelic. And you're anything but. Aren't you, _Kate_?" She pronounced the name so bitterly that she nearly spat out the 't'.

"I am not Kate Bennet, Mina," Angelique said calmly, her cheek stinging. "And never more will I be her. You must go to Henry. He needs you now more than ever."

"Why?"

"He's dieing, Mina. I love him, true, but I cannot take your place in his heart," Angelique said, tears flowing freely down her face. "I love him, but I love Rodney more. It's Rodney who needs my help as Henry needs yours." She wiped her tears away. "Please, Mina. You're the only one who can help him through this. If you are not with him when he takes the antidote, I fear what may happen to him. The antidote will cause the separation of Jekyll from Hyde. Without you there, Henry will lose his strength as he loses Hyde. He may lose enough to force him to succumb to the will of his illness and die. I can't bring him back from the dead. Nor can Angela. His Guardian Angel abandoned him the moment he first took the formula. No one can bring him back if he dies from this. Please. Don't abandon him."

Mina didn't answer as she began walking away down the hallway. She stopped and turned before she reached the stairs. "He abandoned me when he left Baker Street," she said bitterly. She continued up the stairs. "I'll not go."

"Mina, _please_," Angelique begged, running to the base of the stairs. "Please…"

"**_No_**, Kate," she said, closing a door behind her.

Angelique sat on the bottommost stair and cried into her hands. She wanted to fix everything. She wanted to make everything right again. She had hurt too many people. She wanted to heal them. She had destroyed too many lives. She wanted to restore them. She thought the only way she could begin was to help save Mina and Henry's relationship. She knew Henry was more than willing. She could see it in his eyes whenever they spoke of Mina. But it was Mina who didn't seem to wish to oblige the others.

She sat there, feeling the others' eyes upon her, waiting for her to act. She could think of nothing to do, but sit there, wrapping her arms around her knees, ignore the pain in her stomach and her heart and sing:

"_Deep in December it's nice to remember_

_Although you know the snow will follow._

_Deep in December, it's nice to remember:_

_Without the hurt the heart is hollow._

_Deep in December, it's nice to remember_

_The fire of September that made us mellow_

_Deep in December our hearts will remember…_

_And follow…"_

She sighed and stood. She walked over to Nemo and handed him a card. "If she changes her mind," she whispered. "Here's the address. Good evening." Then she left her once welcoming home for the bitterly cold winds of the London streets. As she slowly wandered the snow-covered streets, she thought of Skinner and how much she really did love him. Around every corner, in every shadow, she could see him. He would smile, then dart away into the night.

After an hour of wandering, she began to imagine he was beside her, walking with her. "Oh, Rodney," she whispered. "What a fool I've been… I realise now what I refused to realise then… I didn't understand how lucky I was to have you with me. And now, I may lose all the League forever because of my foolishness…" She held her head high and looked down to no one she passed. Angelique would carry on as the proud woman London knew her as.

But she continued to speak to Skinner as though he was there, listening intently to every word she whispered into the chilling night. "The problem, Rodney, really is we all lead such elaborate lives with wild ambitions in our sights. I don't know how an affair of the heart survive days apart and hurried nights," she said, wrapping her greatcoat tighter around her shoulders. "It's seems quite unbelievable to me. I don't want to live like that. And I don't want to love like that. I just want our time to be slower and gentler, wiser—free. But we all live in extravagant times; playing games we can't all win. Unintended emotional crimes—take some out; take others in. I'm so tired of all we're going through—I don't want to live like that. And I don't want to love like that. Rodney, I just want to be with you—now and forever, peaceful—true."

She sighed and crossed the street for the innumerable time. "And we all lead such elaborate lives that we don't know whose words are true. Strangers, lovers, husbands, wives—it's hard to know who's loving who," she continued to her imagined companion. "And too many choices tear us apart. I don't want to live like that. And I don't want to love like that. I just want to touch your heart… May this confession that you cannot hear be the start…"

"Miss!" Angelique turned sharply to her right when she heard a man call to her. "Miss, please help me!" The man had been attacked in the dark alley he was trying to crawl out of. "I've been horridly injured and can' walk by meself. Please, will you help me?"

She cautiously walked over to him and knelt. As she examined his wounds, she asked, "Who did this to you? Can you remember what he looked like?" She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the vicious cut on the man's forehead.

"Wot difference does it make?" he said. "The police won' be able t' catch him even if I knew wot house he lived in! He's too sneaky, that one is. Wot could an angel like you do t' catch him?"

Angelique helped bring the man to his feet. "I know Mr. Holmes personally," she replied. "He was speaking to my husband's brother when I left in search of my sister to bring her home for supper. I can take you to him and he can help you."

A knife appeared at her throat. "I'm afraid that won' help yeh, Miss," the man said, pulling her into the alley. "You've been kind, I'll grant yeh that. But I've been asked to bring yeh t' the Ripper, I have. And no one disobeys the Ripper."

She nodded, expressionless. "Is that a fact?" she asked. The man nodded, licking his disgustingly dried and chapped lips. "Well, then, sir. You may put your knife away; you won't need it to bring me to Master Ripper. It won't do you any good anyway. I will go with you." He didn't move. "Put the knife away and I will go with you. If you don't, I can't guarantee your safety."

The man scoffed. "Wot kin yeh do?" he asked. "Yer a dainty li'le flower, yeh are. You couldn' hurt nuffink."

"Is that a fact?" she asked. The man nodded again. "Then keep your silly little knife out and see what happens to you." He didn't move. "You must think I'm some sort of prostitute because the Ripper sent you for me, don't you?" He nodded. "Well I'm not. My name is Kate Bennet."

The man's face paled. "_Yer_ Kate Bennet?" he asked, his hand beginning to shake. The knife's blade scratched against her throat. "_The_ Kate Bennet wot kills men fer no reason but tha' she likes t'?" She raised an eyebrow at his description of her, but nodded. "Wot would the Ripper wan' with yeh? I heard yeh was attacked the other day on Harley Street."

"You're right I was," she said sweetly. "Now, if you would be so kind as to release me and give me the address where I would be able to find the Ripper and let me go on my way, I would be very appreciative." The man didn't move, but shook, holding her against the wall. "Oh well. Have it your way. I'll simply have to scream, then." The man winced at her threat, possibly thinking she meant hurt him, but didn't move. Angelique took a deep breath and screamed. _"Help! Help! Police! I'm being attacked by Jack the Ripper! He's back! Help, police! Murder!"_

Rapid footsteps announced the response to Angelique's screaming. A constable was present in moments, dragging the man away from Angelique and shoving him to the ground. "My name is Constable Neil," he said. "You, sir, are in direct violation of the law. You do not have to say anything  
But it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence." He snapped silver cuffs around the man's wrists. "Do you understand what I just said to you?"

"Yeah. Gerroff," the man grumbled as Constable Neil pulled him to his feet.

The Constable ignored the man. "Miss, are you all right?" he asked her.

"Yes, just shaken," she said.

The Constable nodded. "Do you have a card I may have so I may be able to contact you for questioning later?" he asked her. She handed him a copy of Henry's card. "Dr. Jekyll? I wasn't aware that he was still alive."

"He is," she said. "I'm staying with him and his wife while in London. My name is Kate Bennet."

Constable Neil nodded. "Very well, Miss Bennet," he said. "You may go. Either myself or an Inspector will come by within the week to speak with you."

"Thank you, Constable," she said, quickly leaving. As she turned a corner to return to Henry's home, a dark haired man dressed in a white evening suit joined her. "Gabriel, this is hardly the time."

"You have made a mess of trouble for yourself, Angelic," he said serenely. "The Lord has been watching you. I believe He is pleased with your efforts to help your friends. But, of course, there is the matter of Ana Pryde that must be attended to." He caught her elbow as she slipped on a puddle of ice. "Do you have a way of eradicating yourself of her?"

"Yes, Gabriel," she said. "There is an antidote to the formula that I intend to take when I am well enough. At the present, I doubt very much that I will be able to separate her from me and fight her into submission before then."

"Ah, yes," he murmured. "You have been injured by Jack the Ripper. I remember watching that. I wished to help, Angelic, but the Lord forbade it. Instead, He allowed me to whisper to your doctor friend. But surely you are completely healed by now?"

Angelique nodded. "Of course I am, Gabriel," she said. "I only lack the strength to do much more than walk quickly. And thank you for whispering to Dr. Jekyll. I never would have healed properly on my own."

Gabriel shook his head. "It is my pleasure to help you, Angelic," he said. "I only wish I could do more for you."

"There is nothing you can do, Gabriel," she said. "Except try to keep Lucifer from stealing Dr. Jekyll's life and soul. The Son of Perdition has been hunting it for years."

"Will do my best, Angelic," he said.

She smiled. "That all I ask of you, Gabriel."

"Fare thee well, Angelic."

"Good night, Gabriel."

…


	22. Chapter XXI

_Chapter Twenty-One:_

When she entered Henry's house, Angelique was met by Skinner and Mina talking quietly in the entrance hall. They looked over when she closed the door. "Where have you been?" Mina demanded. "He won't take it until you're there, too. Which I believe is Mr. Holmes request." The Vampire grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the sitting-room. "All right, she's here. Let's get this over with."

Angelique—Kate for Mr. Holmes' sake—looked around the room. The entire League was together again, waiting to see if the antidote would finally cure Henry of the wicked Hyde. Stride was even there. She tucked herself into a corner and resolved to silently watch the proceedings. Henry saw her and said, "Come now, Kate. Come out of the dark. You and I are going to take the antidote at the same time. Come along."

She shook her head. "I can't, Henry," she said quietly. "At least not until I see Jack the Ripper in the gallows. I don't know what that antidote will do to cure me if it does at all. I can't risk anything until that madman is gone for forever." She sighed and crossed her arms across her. "I'm sorry. You're on your own."

Mina glared at Angelique for good measure, then turned to Henry. "Love, stop wasting time," she said. "We've waited until she was present. Now she's here. Take it. You've waited long enough to be free."

He shook his head. "No," he whispered, setting his antidote on the table beside him. He walked over to Angelique. She raised an eyebrow as he said, "May I speak with you for a moment? In the hall?" She nodded and followed him out of the sitting-room. She knew the look Mina must have been giving her. When she was in the hall, Henry locked the sitting-room door. "Angelique, what's wrong? Mina said you sent her to be here with me. What's going on?"

"Nothing, Henry. Don't be silly," she said softly. "Go on. Take your antidote. Set yourself free." She looked away from him as she fought against the tears coming to her eyes. "Don't waste your time by being concerned for me. Mina's right. You've waited long enough. Go."

He didn't move. "I never would have gotten this far without you," he said. "I'm sorry that I couldn't ever thank you enough for your help."

She looked at him and the tears began to fall. "You never had to," she whispered. "You never had to thank me because I never did anything to really benefit you."

They stood in silence for a moment while each collected their thoughts. Finally, he asked, "Why do you need to find Jack the Ripper? He's gone. He hasn't attacked a woman in nearly ten years. It is not your responsibility to bring him to justice, Angelique. Why put yourself through the strain of looking for a man you will never find? No one knows who he is; no one ever will."

"_I_ know who he is, Henry!" she said urgently. "I've known for _years_! And like an idiot I never sent his name to the police. He knew that I knew and yet he let me live because he knew what I was doing to further my research. I knew I had ought to turn his name in, but I didn't because I was afraid he would do the same to me and thus end my career. I was more concerned for my well-being than the well-being of the unfortunate women of Whitechapel District. He's going to return to work again soon. I can feel it and the sooner I can catch him and see the bloody bastard with a rope around his neck, the better for everyone in the grove. I will find him, Henry. I can't take the antidote, because it may do something to disallow me to carry out my task. I'm sorry, my friend. But I cannot allow that to happen." She was breathing heavily from the passion she felt over the matter she so plainly put before him and she leaned against the nearest wall. "Besides the fact that I'm not sure I should take it while I'm still weak from my injury. I don't wish to have to be sewn together again."

He sighed. "I understand," he murmured. He coughed lightly and nodded. "I understand completely. Your business is your own and we may soon go our separate ways."

"I never said that," she said. "But, it may save your marriage if we do. I truly am sorry, Henry."

He shook his head. "No," he said. "Don't be. I just don't want this to be our good-bye. That's all. You don't need to be in there while I take it if you don't wish to be. I understand that you have work to do. Just… be careful if you go now. Your antidote will be here, waiting for you if you ever return for it."

"Thank you," she said. She walked over to him and kissed him gently on the cheek. "If I am not in my room by morning, tell Rodney I love him and that we'll meet again." Without waiting for him to reply, she turned and quickly ran to her bedroom. Once behind closed doors, she sighed and rubbed her eyes free of all the tears she had shed.

She caught sight of something laying on her bed in the low lamplight. She took the lamp, brightened the small blaze and walked over to her bed. Angela, judging by the note, had been so kind as to bring her an outfit that Angelique had been particularly fond of. It consisted of black leather pants, a black leather bodice over a black shirt that had sleeves that only would reach her elbows. She wore black leather gloves with the fingertips cut off, and black boots to complete the ensemble.

Tossing the note aside, she took the outfit into her arms and changed into it, discarding her dress onto the floor by the dressing screen. Feeling like her old self—the self that would kill a man who crossed her without a second thought—she tore through the wardrobe in search of the perfect weapon to use against Jack the Ripper.

She had a rough time of it, looking for it, but she knew it was there; she had seen it only that morning when she picked out the dress she was wearing moments before. How it got in her wardrobe, she had no idea. She was just glad it was there when she finally found it—a knife. But not just any knife. It was beautiful. A silver blade of nine inches, inscribed with the Assassin's Code that is unreadable by any who was not part of the secret Assassins' Guild that she had abandoned so many years ago for freelance murdering. The hilt was brass and studded with diamonds, the sign of a Final Level Assassin, which she was.

Tucking the precious weapon into her boot, she went to the window and opened it, looking down into the street below her. She smiled, taking in the brisk scent of the bitterly cold air, and leaped out of the window, landing gently in the snow outside the closed-curtained window of the sitting-room. She looked back and saw the silhouettes of her only friends. Abandoning any attachment to the people in the room beyond the glass, she ran down the sidewalk and into the winter's night, unaware that a certain retired consulting detective was watching her from the window.

…


	23. Chapter XXII

_Chapter Twenty-Two:_

"Angelique?" Skinner asked quietly as he opened her bedroom door and looked into the dark room. "Love, are you all right?" He entered the room and lit the lamp. He looked around again and saw the open window. "Dammit, Angelique! You'll be killed!" He closed the window and thought about what he had said. "Then again, maybe you won't."

* * *

There he was, standing across the room, his back to her. She picked up the nearest lamp and smashed it against the back of his head. As he fell to the floor, she pulled out her beautiful knife and knelt beside his unconscious form. She set her blade at his throat and was about to quickly slice it open when a voice said, "Are you sure you want to be doing that, Angelique?"

She looked up and saw the Devil standing in the doorway. She arched an eyebrow and said, "Yes, I really think I do. This man is the reason many women are dead and many more are afraid to walk down the street after dark! Why would I _not_ end the madness he has instilled in London?"

He smirked and replied, "Perhaps because it may cost you your place in Heaven. Of course, if you prefer to remain here—less than mortal, suffering a constantly broken heart, never sure if he really loves you—go ahead. Kill him. See how your God likes it." He waited for her to respond. When she didn't, he raised his eyebrows and said, "Well?"

She sighed. "Lucifer, are you trying to persuade me to be holy?"

He scoffed. "No. Never. I'm trying to reward my best and most favourite servant. That's all."

"You never reward your servants," she spat. "You must have some use for this horrid man, then. Why else would you want me to spare him?" She snorted. Then she drew her knife across the throat of Sir William Gull, cutting his flesh to his bone, spilling his blood onto the floor. She looked at the Devil. "I'm sorry, Sir. I cannot allow you to have him as your pawn." The Devil gave her the look that used to fill her heart with fear. But not then. She didn't fear him any longer. And he realised that as she returned the look. He disappeared.

Muttering to herself, she ripped her victim's shirt open and sent her knife into his body. Then swiftly and silently, she mutilated the body of Jack the Ripper as he mutilated the bodies of his own victims. Her grisly task completed, she pulled a small piece of paper from her pocket. It was a short note she had written in red ink. It read: _And so end the games of Jack the Ripper_. She dropped the note on the mutilated corpse and quickly left through the window, hearing footsteps approaching the room. Moments later, a shrill scream ripped through the tranquil night.

* * *

The next morning, Angelique walked cheerfully into Henry's home to find Lydia sobbing on Mina's shoulder in the sitting-room. "What's going on?" she asked, taking on the appearances of Kate Bennet once more. She couldn't wait to be rid of the blasted façade for forever. She was beginning to get confused about who she really was.

Lydia looked up from Mina's tear-soaked shoulder at Kate. "Oh, Kate, it's _awful_!" she sobbed. "It really is! Last night, before I went to bed, I went to look for Sir William to take him to bed. I-I found him in the study… B-but, he w-w-w-was… h-he was… _dead_." She whispered the last word and a new wave of tears cascaded from her eyes.

Kate nodded to Mina, who left the room. The older sister sat beside the younger and put a comforting arm around her shaking shoulders. "What were the circumstances surrounding his death, Lydia?" she asked, trying to be gentle.

"He—he was m-mur-m-murdered!" she cried. "His throat was all slashed open and his body completely tore up from chest to a little below his waist." She dabbed at her eyes with a white handkerchief. "And, that's not all. I found this note on him." She pulled out a short note written in red ink, with bloodstains on the backside. "It says, _and so end the games of Jack the Ripper._ But I don't know what that means!"

"Lydia," Kate began gently. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but, love, you were married to Jack the Ripper."

The younger woman stopped crying and pulled away from her sister. "No, it cannot be," she whispered. "William could never be Jack the Ripper. He was kind and gentle and loving and—"

"A murderer," Kate finished. "Lydia, you must believe what I tell you is true. Were it not for Dr. Jekyll, I would have been labelled his victim." Lydia gave her a disbelieving look. "Here. I'll show you." Grateful that her body sustained violent scars, she unlaced her bodice and lifted her blouse to reveal the thick white and jagged line that ran from just above her pantline, disappearing under her blouse above her navel. "He did this to me not a month ago. I'm sorry you had to discover it this way. But it is true."

"It can't be true!" she whispered. "It just can't be! You're lying, Kate!" Lydia stood and walked angrily to the window. "That's all you ever did! You've always lied to me! And now, when I've just lost the one man I could ever love in my life, you lie yet again! Why must you torment me so?"

Kate quickly pulled her clothing back together properly and stood. "Listen to yourself, Lydia!" she said. "You were so willing to believe the lies he fed you that you ran away with him with little regard for your own safety. Mr. Darcy found the two of you in Whitechapel—which, if you will remember, is where Jack the Ripper murdered those poor women! If not for Mr. Darcy, _you_ would have become one of many women he had slaughtered. He never loved you, Lydia. He wanted to spill your blood because it gave him more sexual pleasure than any woman's bed could offer."

"Stop it!" Lydia shouted.

"He admitted it to me himself before he attempted to drain me of my own life force," Kate said quickly, ignoring the plea. "He pulled out his knife and cut my skin enough to make me bleed. Then he pinned me to a wall and forced me to allow him to drink my blood. Face facts! You married a counterfeit Vampire, Lydia. You have to admit that the man was _not normal_." She paused to catch her breath. "You have to admit it."

"Stop it, Kathryn!" Lydia screamed. "Just… _stop!_ I cannot stand her and allow you to slander him!"

Kate was taken slightly aback. "Fine," she said quietly. "Fine, I'll stop 'slandering' him, as you say. I'm going to sniff out a spot of break fast. While I'm gone, just think about what I've said. I'm locking you in here. I'll return within the hour." Kate left the sitting-room, turning the key in the lock loudly after she closed the door.

* * *

Skinner knew Angelique had returned. He had heard her speaking to Lydia Bennet Gull in the sitting-room. Then the door shut, a key was turned, and he heard rapid and light footsteps on the stairs, disappearing to the second floor of the house. He followed the footsteps to Angelique's bedroom, where he found her laying on her bed, her face pressed into the pillow, and crying. "Angelique," he said gently, closing the door behind him. He sat beside her on the bed and lightly ran his fingers along her spine. "Angelique, what's wrong?"

"I am a horrible person, Rodney," she said into her pillow. "I don't know why I do the things I do. I've killed people for money; I've killed them for science; I've killed them for revenge; I've killed them for pleasure. I've betrayed the only people in the world that ever meant anything to me. Ever. I broke your heart. I lied to Sawyer. And to Mina. And to Henry. And just now, last night, I killed my sister's husband. True, she isn't really my sister. But I killed her husband!" She sat up and looked into Rodney's eyes, her own stained with tears and filled with pain. "I don't know what to do anymore. I love you, but I want to return to Heaven, where I should be. I want to be an Archangel again, but I can't because I've obeyed my wicked master." She sighed and threw her arms around his shoulders. "I guess I'm just royally ruined. And there's nothing to do about it."

He held her in his arms and rocked her gently. "Angelique," he whispered as he held her close to him. "You'll find a way. You'll find your place… I promise…"

* * *

"Kathryn Bennet!" Lydia yelled. "Let me out of here!" The door opened behind her. "Finally! I've been locked in here all day." She turned and came face to face with Dr. Jekyll. "Oh. Good morning, Dr. Jekyll. If you see my sister, tell her that I still don't believe her and that she'll need a lot of hard evidence to make me do so." She walked out of the house quickly.

…


	24. Chapter XXIII

_Chapter Twenty-Three:_

"Drink it, Angelique!"

"But what if something goes wrong?"

"Just drink the bloody thing!"

"Rodney, I don't want to!"

"Drink it or I'll force it down your throat myself!"

"_Henry!"_

"He has a point, Mina."

"Sawyer, shut up."

"Angelique, drink it!"

"No!"

"Angela, make her drink it."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Skinner. I can't force her to do anything she doesn't want to do."

"Dammit!"

"Rodney!"

"Drink the bloody antidote, Angelique! I wanna go to bed!"

The League was standing in Henry's sitting-room, arguing loudly. Angelique held her vial of the antidote tightly in her hand and everyone else was watching her. She was feeling extremely self-conscious. And she was afraid to drink it, no matter how much she wanted to be rid of Ana Pryde. The League had been trying to get her drink it since Lydia had left and she continued to refuse. "Look, just because Henry's fine, it doesn't mean something isn't going to go wrong!" she countered. "Remember what the formula did to me? I only drank it once!"

"Angelique, please," Henry said gently. "We'll be right here if something does happen. It's going to be all right. Just drink it."

She looked at her friends, each one in the eyes. She could see the exhaustion and pleading in each of them. She sighed. "Fine, you win," she muttered. She pulled the cork out of the vial, closed her eyes and tipped the antidote into her mouth. Swallowing before she could taste it, she dropped the vial. Almost immediately, the most intense pain she had ever felt in her entire existence filled her. The pain coursed through her veins, pinching at her from the inside. She dropped to her knees and held her head while her friends watched in slight shock. Angelique saw nothing but darkness for a moment as a sinister laughter filled the room, enveloping her. When her vision cleared, Rodney was helping her to her feet. She looked around and saw Ana Pryde laughing by the fireplace. "You," Angelique said softly.

"Yes, me," Ana Pryde replied, smirking. "And I thank you ever so much, Angelique, for setting me free of the prison of your mind. It's quite refreshing to be out in the open for as long as I should like." She stretched her arms over her head and continued smirking. "But, now, I'm afraid I must go. You've all poisoned my husband, and I should be out seeking another to take his place." She turned to leave.

"If you think to find Jack the Ripper," Angelique called after her. "You'll find him dead. I swear it, Ana Pryde. He's dead." She rubbed her head, fighting against an incoming headache and noticed her clothing had changed. Instead of wearing her black assassin's apparel, she was clothed in her Archangel's dress. The white of the fabric was almost blinding after wearing such dark colours for so many years.

Ana Pryde turned back to look at Angelique. "That's impossible," she said. "He couldn't die. He's Jack the Ripper!"

Angelique shook her head. "And yet, he's most certainly dead," she answered, her Archangel's Bow appearing in her hand and the Quiver on her back. "And, unfortunately for you, you must suffer the same fate. But, in a much more agreeable manner."

Ana Pryde scoffed. "You can't kill your other half," she said, placing her hands on her hips, daring Angelique.

The FallenAngel took the dare. "Go ahead and believe that," she said, retrieving an arrow from her quiver and setting it against the bowstring. "See how much good it will do you in Hell." She fired the arrow and it found it's home in Ana Pryde's heart. The wicked woman looked shocked for a moment, then burst into black flames and disappeared.

Sawyer stared at Angelique. "Whoa," he muttered. Then he leaned over to Angela and whispered, "Remind me to never get her mad at me." Angela nodded.

A bright light filled the room as Angelique slipped her bow around her shoulder. "Angelic," Gabriel's voice followed the light. "Angelic, it is time." The light dissipated and Gabriel stood before Angelique, his hand outstretched. "It is time. Say good-bye to them."

"Gabriel," she said, backing away from the Archangel. "I don't understand."

"Say good-bye, Angelic," he repeated. "Our Lord God has work for you to do."

"No!" Angelique and the others turned to see the Devil standing where Ana Pryde was. "No! He cannot have her! She is _my_ servant now! She belongs to me!"

"She never belonged to you, Lucifer," Gabriel barked. "She was always a servant of God. And He merely lent her to you for your use. And now, He's taking her back. Angelic, come."

She turned and threw her arms around Rodney's shoulders. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't want to leave you, but it appears I have no choice." Tears coursed down her cheeks.

"Don't worry about me, Angelique," he whispered, holding her at arms' length. "You have work to do. I understand that. God has His purpose for all of us. Go on."

Gabriel looked at Angelique expectantly. "Angelic," he repeated, his hand waiting for hers. She hesitantly took his hand.

"Angelique, you will learn the pain of betraying me!" the Devil shouted. "But, I suppose I have you to thank for the skilled new servant—Jack the Ripper. I'm thinking of making him a Demon. Have fun in Heaven!" The Devil turned once and disappeared as Gabriel took Angelique to Heaven, leaving the one man she ever truly loved behind them.

…


	25. Chapter XXIV

_Chapter Twenty-Four:_

Henry heard a rather violent crash from Angelique's room. Then he heard another. He ran up the stairs and pounded on the door. "Rodney Skinner!" he yelled through the door. "If you don't stop destroying things in there, I will deport you to her house! _Then_ see how much you miss her!"

The door opened and Henry saw no one there. But he heard Skinner sigh loudly. "I know, Jekyll," he muttered. "And what's worse, now that she's gone, I can't stop thinking about her and I'm having a bit of a problem keeping control of my visibility."

"What do you mean?"

"When I took the antidote she made for me, it made me visible, right?" he asked. Henry nodded. "But, I discovered that I could become invisible whenever I wanted to. So the antidote really only gave me control over my visibility-invisibility status. It's like a complex. And with her gone, I can't concentrate on anything except how much I miss her and need her with me, so I flicker between the two states… Does that make sense?"

Henry nodded. "Almost," he said. "We'll think of something to help you out. But, in the meantime, I would appreciate it if you would stop ruining my furniture and think of some way to get Mrs. Gull to leave. She still thinks Angelique is here and is demanding to see her."

"Why don't you tell her that Angelique's dead?" Skinner suggested, flickering into visibility. With his complex, his clothes changed states as well. For that, Henry was grateful. "Technically she was never really alive. But, she's in Heaven, now isn't she? So she could pass for dead."

"That may just work," Henry murmured, thinking quickly. He had just heard the front door slam open and Lydia shriek about seeing Kate immediately. "Thank you." He flew down the stairs to meet Lydia at the door. "Yes, Mrs. Gull? Did you need something?"

"Yes!" Lydia spat. "I want to see my sister! Where is she?"

Henry shook his head solemnly. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Gull," he said. "But, last night, your sister was found murdered in Whitechapel. Her throat was slit open and her body mutilated. Either your husband wasn't really Jack the Ripper, or someone else was imitating him."

Lydia was shocked at the news. "She's dead?" she whispered, walking backward into the wall and leaning on it for support. "She can't be dead! She's Kate Bloody Bennet! She's killed more men than she's lived years! More than our mother's lived years! She's the most feared woman in all of England! Dr. Jekyll, surely you jest to tell me that she was murdered in Whitechapel like a Ripper Victim! She wouldn't have allowed the bastard to get anywhere near her!"

"True," he replied. "You're right, of course. But the fact remains that she is dead. Myself, my wife and our friend Rodney Skinner identified her body just this morning. I am truly sorry for your losses, Mrs. Gull. First your husband, then your sister. It's a horribly tragedy."

"I came to talk to her because I believe her," she whispered. "I found a journal in William's writing desk that I had never seen before. It detailed everything about the Whitechapel murders to every last drop of blood on the bodies. He even wrote about her walking in on him writing the 'From Hell' letter and letting her live because he knew her 'dirty, little secret', which I can only assume was her line of work, which started about that time. The last entry was of his last encounter with her here. How he had discussed everything with her, whether or not completely, I'm not sure. How he had cut her skin, and drank her blood, and how the wound healed itself quickly. Then how he discovered that she was married and he cut her stomach open and left her for dead." Tears fell from Lydia's eyes. "I believe her… I believe her… And she's gone."

"Henry, what's going on out here?" Mina asked as she entered the hall. She saw Lydia crying. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Henry quickly walked over to Mina and whispered, "We need to pretend that Kate Bennet is dead—a victim of a Jack the Ripper imitator. At least until we figure out if we will ever see her again, that is. Please, play along." Mina nodded, then took Lydia into the sitting-room for some tea. Henry leaned against the nearest wall and sighed, realising that this task would prove to be very difficult indeed…

* * *

Angelique was sitting in the tallest tree in the Archangel garden, gazing into the distance, never speaking to anyone, never leaving her position, never tearing her eyes from the distant location she had chosen to stare at. Gabriel had, on several occasions, attempted to speak to her, but she would never respond. She would sigh, then continue to ignore him. He hated to see her in such a state. So he went to God to speak to Him about it.

_Tell me again why you are upset, Archangel Gabriel…_

Gabriel nodded. "My Lord," he said. "The Archangel Angelique spends all her days sitting in the tallest tree of the Archangel gardens. She will not move. She will not speak. She continues to stare at some distant location unknown for all the hours of the day and ignore any request to engage her in conversation. She has discarded her duties as an Archangel and her hair is turning a ghastly shade of grey. I fear for her Grace, my Lord."

_She has lost her Grace once, Gabriel. If she loses it once again, it will not harm her. I restored her to Grace, I need her here. Do you know why she does this?_

The Archangel shook his head. "I do not, Lord," he admitted. "Though, I can suppose that it is because she was torn away from her beloved. The Mortal—Rodney Skinner."

_The one with the ability to become Invisible… Ah, yes, him. Her relationship with him was unhealthy for an Angel of her abilities and station. It needed to be dissolved._

"She loves him, Lord!" Gabriel protested. "You teach Your children, do You not, to love others as disciples of Your Gospel? How can You make such teachings, then disallow your most faithful Angel to love? You are a jealous God, true, but she does not put the Mortal before You, only herself."

_SILENCE! Gabriel, you have stepped beyond your bounds. I will do as I wish with my servants. You are to never question that. Bring her to me… NOW!_

Gabriel nodded. "Yes, Lord," he murmured, then left in search of Angelique.

She stood before her Lord moments later, bowed to him, then asked, "What is Your will, my Lord?"

_Gabriel tells me you are unhappy here. Why?_

She hesitated for a moment, then replied, "I have always loved You, my Lord. You know this. I have always been a faithful servant to whoever was my master. Know You this also. But, while I was in the servitude to the Devil, I discovered the few pleasures Mortal Men may know. I confess that I had indulged myself in these vices and enjoyed them as any Mortal Woman would. But, there came a time when I had met a man like no other I had known. This man was Rodney Skinner. He was one of the few reasons why I was able to bear serving the Devil. I… I love him, my Lord. Nothing can alter my opinion or my knowledge of that. And while I am here, in Heaven, I am without him. I cannot continue on in this manner, Lord, lest I discontinue to exist at all."

_You have made your point poignantly and clearly, Angelique. Is there a Wish you may have to help alleviate this pain you feel?_

"My Lord," she whispered, tears forming at her eyes. "I have as of yet not asked of You my Angel's Wish. Were I to, I would wish to become a Mortal Woman so I may continue my existence with Rodney. But, there is a reason You have restored me to Grace. And I must obey Your commands at whatever cost to my happiness they may bring me."

_You would wish to become a Mortal?_ She nodded. _I will consider it. In the meantime, you will not enter the Archangel garden and you will continue your duties as an Archangel. Do I make myself clear?_

"Inescapably, Lord," she nodded, joy filling her heart.

_Go. I will send for you when I have come to my decision._

…


	26. Chapter XXV

_Chapter Twenty-Five:_

That night, when Mina and Henry went to bed, they were met with the sight of a sickly-looking creature perched on their bed. It was a revolting thing, diminutive, dreary, reeking of miasma. It smiled—they assumed, the skin around its mouth stretched in a lopsided form—when it saw Henry. "Ah, Dr. Jekyll," the thing said. "My name is Malady. I am a servant in the Devil's household. Your state of health has been entrusted to me. Believe me to be a good caretaker and I will see you to the end of your battle with your illness."

"I'm sure you will," Henry replied. "You'll take me there quickly, won't you? I'm afraid I cannot allow you to remain in the presence of my wife. Please leave."

The thing looked offended. "You do not trust me," it said, coming nearer to Mina and Henry. "I'm insulted. You have every good reason to trust me, Dr. Jekyll. I assure you."

"Angela has always said to never trust a Demon," Mina said lightly. "If that's what you truly are."

"Perhaps I am," it replied. "But you trust Angelique. She was almost a Demon herself. I worked closely with her."

"Get out." The thing looked insulted again, but disappeared from sight. Henry and Mina put it out of their minds as they went to bed.

* * *

"Angelic, the Lord has work for you," Gabriel said, finding her in the Guardian Angel garden. She was allowed there, and she was obeying her orders. "There has been word of a new, extremely powerful Demon in the employ of the Devil. You are to seek it out, observe it and report back the qualities it possesses. Do not engage it at any cost. Go." She nodded and flew away silently.

She found herself in the dregs of London and hid herself in the shadows of the buildings. She closed her eyes and mentally reached out for the Demon. It was a trick she had picked up while working for the Devil and she never thought it would ever come in useful until then. She found a disturbance in one of the seedy pubs in Whitechapel. So, disguised as an unfortunate, Angelique went to the pub.

Inside, the air was thick with smoke, alcohol and lust. Carefully making her way through the unruly crowd, she found a secluded table in a darkened corner and looked around her. The occupants of the establishment were none of good report. She saw several she recognised from her traversing as Ana Pryde, but none that she could identify as a Demon.

Then she saw him. She knew immediately that he was the Demon she was in search of. Not only because he bore the definitive mark Demons had on the back of their left hand—the pentangle—but because he took the form of a man that she knew was undeniably and unmistakably dead—Sir William Gull. He took a young unfortunate out of the pub, malice riddling his face. Angelique quickly followed him. But he was gone before she could do anything to save the woman. So she returned to Heaven to report.

"Gabriel," she said. "It is Jack the Ripper. This will more likely than not take on the form of the Whitechapel Murders but on a celestial level. Good luck. I caught him by surprise as a Mortal, I doubt he will fall the same way twice."

…


	27. Chapter XXVI

_Chapter Twenty-Six:_

Sherlock Holmes woke suddenly in the middle of the night, to see Kathryn Bennet sitting at the window, her back to him, her pale hand holding back the curtain, allowing the moonlight to seep through the crack between the fabrics. He sat up in bed, but before he could say anything, she said, her rich velvety voice filling the room, "Good morning, Mr. Holmes. I trust you slept well?"

"I thought you were dead," he said simply.

"You thought wrong," she answered, standing and leaving the window for the chair at his bedside. "Of course, everything you thought you knew about me was absolutely incorrect. For, you see, my name is not Kathryn Bennet. It is Angelique. I am—"

"A FallenAngel, finally restored to Grace by drinking the antidote I prepared for you," he said, interrupting. "I deduced as much when you refused to drink the antidote with Jekyll. And when you were able to survive an attack from Jack the Ripper, then kill him. And the fact that you are here now, when you have been absent from anyone's company for the past three months."

"Time passes more swiftly on Earth than in Heaven, I'm afraid," she said. "I need your help, Mr. Holmes."

"Really," he said, his interest piqued. "And why would an Archangel need my help?"

She paused and collected her thoughts. "You are aware, I'm sure, of the recent murders in London," she said. "They eerily reflect the work of Jack the Ripper, who is, undoubtedly, dead by my hand. However, a man with such an evil soul was sent directly to Hell. And, unfortunately, into the services of the Devil. The Devil made him a Demon. And now, he terrorises all London, and England, for that matter. There is no end to his depravity now that he is immortal."

"I see," Holmes said, getting out of bed and pulling his dressing gown on. "Where do I come in to this?"

"You are the world's greatest detective," she said, standing and following him out of the bedroom and into the sitting-room. "I need your help more than anyone's. You, if you accept the challenge, will locate a centre of operations—a location from which the Jack the Ripper Demon heads his evilness and receives his orders from the Devil. I have been searching for it and it has painfully eluded my grasp. Without that information, I cannot find him and destroy him. Will you help me?"

"Is there anything else you wish to add to your information?" he asked, lighting his pipe. "Do you have any other motives aside from being ordered by God to destroy Jack the Ripper?"

She paused a moment before she nodded. "I do," she said quietly. She briefly explained her Angel's Wish to him. "Without destroying the Jack the Ripper Demon, my wish will never be granted. It is my responsibility to destroy him as it is my fault that he was made a Demon to begin with. Will you help me?"

"You realise by the time your Wish may be granted, Mr. Skinner may be dead or already in love with someone else?" Holmes asked, matter-of-factly. "That you would be made Mortal for no reason and all your efforts would be for naught?"

"I do," she replied, walking to the window and pulling the curtain away from him. The moonlight silhouetted her beautifully. "It's a price I am willing to pay for all the sins I have committed… But, if he is out of my reach, my efforts would not be for naught. I would have rid the world of the Demon's shadow and protected innocent people from his blade. I ask one last time. Will you help me?"

Holmes paused a moment and thought quickly and hard on her offer, evaluating all possible outcomes of helping the Archangel. Finally, he looked up at her and said, "I will."

"Thank you." Then she was gone.

…


	28. Chapter XXVII

_Chapter Twenty-Seven:_

"I close my eyes…" she whispered. "And I still see your face…" She quietly approached the bedside of the man who was once Invisible and lightly ran her hand through his hair. "I hoped you wouldn't notice it, but I returned each glance…" She sighed and turned to leave him. Again.

However, before she could, she heard him stir and say, "Angelique? Is that you?"

A tear slipped down her cheek as she looked over her shoulder, then left him alone in the darkness of the room they once shared.

She didn't know what to do. Her emotions were running away without her and leaving her to wallow in the misery of being alone as an Archangel of God's Heaven. She was not allowed to be with him while in her Angelic state, but it was the one thing she wanted more than anything else in the entire existence of Heaven above, Hell below and Earth between. He was the only man who could honestly make her happy to be who she was and to be comfortable with her past crimes and sins.

But it was her Grace that kept her from him. She loved being an Archangel and she loved serving God, and however blasphemous it may sound, she loved being with him more. Rodney Skinner was a man who was led by greed and sin to go from being a common thief, to a gentleman thief, to the second Invisible Man to the man she loved. If he could be her closest friend for years before she realized it was he she actually loved and not Moriarty or Gray or Holmes, then he was a man who deserved to be forgiven.

"In his eyes, I can see where my heart longs to be," she whispered, walking slowly and silently down the streets of London, as was her habit when she needed air to think. "In his eyes, I see a gentle glow. And that's where I was safe, I know. Safe in his arms, close to his heart. But I didn't know quite where to start. By looking in his eyes, I could see beyond the tomorrows. By looking in his eyes, I could see beyond the sorrow and pain I could feel. Did his eyes reveal to me promises or lies? Either way, he couldn't conceal from me the love in his eyes. They were like an open book. I know their every look. But most of all, the look that hypnotized me. If I was wise, I would have walked away and gladly. But sadly, I was not wise. It's hard to talk away the memories that I prize."

"Hello, Angelique," a chilling voice said behind her.

She spun around, her wings springing from her back and her bow and quiver of Archangel Light appeared in her hand or around her shoulders, respectively. "Ripper," she spat. "How nice of you to join me tonight. I was feeling rather lonely, truth to tell. Have you come to die again?"

He laughed. "Hardly," he said. "I merely wanted to see what the Hell you're doing wandering about in this world instead of wandering about in Heaven."

"I was looking for you," she said bitterly. "Your death has been my command, you see. And if I don't complete my task, my Wish cannot come true."

"Pity," he said. He examined her for a moment. Then he leaped on her. His knife was in his hand and slashing through the air, tearing the fabric of her Archangel Robes. She fought him off as best she could, but he was too powerful. She fell to the damp ground harshly, knocking the wind from her lungs. Her chest burning violently, she managed to keep the Ripper's knife from penetrating her skin and poisoning her with his Demonic blade. But he was too quick for her. As she was scrambling away to be able to use her bow, he dug a smaller blade into her back then disappeared.

Stumbling to hang onto the nearest streetlamp for support, she reached behind her to pull the knife from her back. In the flickering lamplight she could see the black poison on the blade mixing with her blood. "I swear before God that I will destroy the Ripper," she whispered as Gabriel appeared before her. "He will die again by my hand, Gabriel. I swear before God."

"I know, Angelic," he whispered, catching her as she lost he balance. "Come. Let us get you back to Heaven to heal that wound."

Once in her rooms in Heaven, Gabriel gently laid Angelique on her bed and pulled her blood-stained robes from her back, revealing a deep gash in her flesh. "What did you do to provoke him, Angelic?" he asked, pressing a damp cloth to the wound.

"Nothing, Gabriel," she said, griping a blanket rather tightly. "I had been to visit Holmes and ask his help, then to Rodney, who was sleeping, just to look at him."

"You ought not do that, Angelic," Gabriel said, pressing his hand firmly to the wound. "You may fall into Temptation."

"He was asleep, Gabriel," she said. "And I've been rather well-behaved as of late. Temptation has not been my companion for some Earthly months."

"I see, Angelic," he said, pulling a blanket over her. "Go to sleep now. I will send for you in the morning."

She fell asleep, whispering, "Oh, darling dearest Rodney, will we ever be together again?"


	29. Chapter XXVIII

_Chapter Twenty-Eight:_

"I swear, it was her!" Skinner cried, trying to convince the rest of the League that he had seen Angelique in his room the night before. "She was standing by my bed and whispering to me. I couldn't hear what she was saying, but she was there. And she left when I woke up and spoke."

"Skinner," Sawyer said, hoping for what may have been a comforting tone. "She's gone. And I doubt she will ever be coming back."

Angela pinched Sawyer's arm in chastisement and said, "Now, Tom, let's not give up all hope. Rodney, there is the _slightest_ most miniscule chance that she hasn't used her Angel's Wish yet and will be allowed to return to you by using it."

"Angela," Jekyll said. "She's not the most predictable woman I've ever met."

"She does tend to lie to gain her ends, doesn't she?" Sawyer replied. "How many times did she tell you one thing and do another?"

"Several, I'm sure," Jekyll said in his turn. "I lost count after the first three years of being in acquaintance with her. Her comments are rather sharp, too, I've noticed."

"Of course, she was a FallenAngel when we knew her," Sawyer said.

"You two are not helping," Skinner muttered as he left the room, leaving the two to joke about Angelique.

* * *

"What the Hell do you want here?" Malady hissed when it saw Angelique approaching it.

She glared, crossed her arms and said, "I'm here to see Moriarty. Take me to him."

The demon laughed spitefully. "I don't think so," it said. "No Angels are allowed in Hell. You know that."

Her patience was at its end when it came to dealing with unholy beings. So she caught the demon by the throat and slammed it against the stone wall of Hell's Entrance. "I am here to see Professor James Moriarty," she growled. "And you will take me to him. Now." She dropped Malady and the demon grumbled before skulking away to lead her to her destination.

She found Moriarty lounging about seeming in the most luxurious of locations in Hell. She smirked and raised an eyebrow at the sight. "Professor Moriarty," she said, gathering his attention. "I hope you're not enjoying yourself far _too_ much."

"Angelique, most beloved by Gabriel," he said, setting aside the book he was reading. "Please sit." She took the empty seat beside him. "You were so lovely as a sinner. As an Angel, you've quite lost your charm."

"I didn't come here to exchange pleasantries with you," she said shortly.

"Then why did you come?" he asked. "The Devil doesn't enjoy having do-gooders here. You better state your case quickly and be gone before he arrives. He can smell you Angels kilometres away."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I need your help," she admitted after a moment of silence.

He raised a curious eyebrow. "Regale me," he replied.

"You are aware, I'm sure, of the latest Demon that haunts the surface of the world," she said. Moriarty nodded. "Jack the Ripper. Finally caught and killed at my hand. But before I could make things right with his soul, I was redeemed of my evils and pulled away to Heaven again. Now, I have a Wish of God that will only be granted if I destroy this Demon once and for all. I must be sure that he will never be able to resurface to molest the people of Earth again."

"I see," he said thoughtfully. "But I fail to see what this has to do with me."

She leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. "I need your help," she said. He looked at her sceptically. "I know it sounds odd, but I do. I _must_ destroy the Ripper Demon. I already have Holmes searching for a location from which he usually operates. But still that is not enough."

"Then what do you need from me?"

"I need you to find his weakness," she replied simply. "If you can find it, I can utilise it for my purposes."

He leaned back in his chair and thought. "What do I get in return?" he asked. "You know well enough that I won't work for nothing."

"I will arrange it so you can be returned to Life," she said promptly. "I had orders from the Devil to kill you. But he hasn't really used you for anything, so I doubt he'll miss you here."

Moriarty thought about it again. "I agree to your terms, ArchAngel," he said, holding out his hand. She shook it without hesitation. "You just made a deal with a Demon, Angelique," he said. "What would your beloved Gabriel think?"

"He's not my beloved," she retorted. "But I'm sure he would think that I'm pressing my luck." She stood and straightened her white robes. "And I am. But I learned from the two best, though they are the bitterest of enemies to each other, to do whatever necessary to gain a satisfactory result in all my endeavours. When you need to contact me, find a vanity mirror and whisper my name. I'll come as quickly as possible. Good luck, Professor."

* * *

When Angelique returned to Heaven, she was immediately accosted by Gabriel, who said, "You made a deal with Moriarty? What were you thinking? You were ordered to kill him for a reason!"

"Oh, you didn't call me Angelic," she said, sarcasm filtering into her voice. "You're mad at me, aren't you?"

"All Hell be damned if I'm not!" he said, pulling on her arm and dragging her into his quarters. "Now, Angelique, I realise you haven't been an Angel for a number of years, but the ways we do things haven't changed! We still protect the righteous, we still vanquish threatening Demons, and we don't deal with Lowly Demons!"

"I was given a task," she said evenly. "And I will complete it, using whatever means necessary. I will use the world's greatest consulting detective to find the Ripper. And I will use the world's worst Napoleon of Crime to find the Ripper's weakness. We are taught, are we not, as ArchAngels in training to know our assets and use the helpful ones? I am _not_ going against any ArchAngel's Laws, Gabriel. I am merely using odd assets. If it works, who cares?"

"God will not be pleased when you return Life to Moriarty," he said.

"I don't see why you think that," she said lightly. "My order to kill him came from the Devil. I should think that the Lord would be happy that such an evil man will be given another chance to choose God over Satan."

"You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink," Gabriel replied. "You can guide Moriarty to righteousness, Angelique, but there's no guarantee that he'll accept the Word of God."

"I never exactly expected him to, actually," she said. "You don't know him like I do, Gabriel. He's not one to change easily." She left the room. "Good night."


	30. Chapter XXIX

_Chapter Twenty-Nine:_

_Angelique…_

Her attention was pulled away from the guide to vanquishing Demons she was reading. Her name was repeated and she took a moment to realise that both Holmes and Moriarty were calling for her. Sighing, she went to Moriarty first. "Before you say anything, Moriarty," she said, taking his arm in hand. "We're going to Holmes." Her wings erupted from her back and with a little difficulty, she flew and carried him to 221B Baker Street, from where Holmes' call came. She set Moriarty down in an armchair by the fire and folded her wings behind her back. "Now, I assume you both have some sort of report for me?" she inquired. The both nodded. "Okay. Well, one at a time, out with it."

The men looked at each other and silently agreed that Holmes should go first. "Well, Angelique," he began. "It may disturb you to know that I was able to track your Demon to an abandoned house in London."

"Why would that disturb me?" she asked lightly.

He paused before answering. "The abandoned house," he said. "Belongs to you."

"He's staying in _my_ house?" she asked. Holmes nodded and she shuddered. "Moriarty, your report?"

"I have found the Ripper's weakness," he said shortly. "And, almost predictably, it coincides with Holmes' discovery." He shuddered in his turn. "He lusts after your blood. He would want nothing more than to make you Fall from Grace and take to your bed and blood."

"I'm sure if I had Ana Pryde in me, she would be singing praises right now," Angelique muttered, ignoring the confused glance between the men. She sat down in the middle of the couch, her wings pulling themselves back into her back, and sighed. "Thank you, gentlemen, for your services." She rubbed her face and thought about her situation.

Holmes and Moriarty left their places and sat on either side of her on the couch. They each took one of her hands and Holmes said, "Angelique, we've been discussing the matter and came to the conclusion that you don't have to do this alone. We can help you."

She shook her head. "I can't put you through that," she said softly. "There's no guarantee that _I_ will survive this."

"Angelique," Moriarty said. "ArchAngel as you may be, you're no stronger now as you were when you were Kate Bennet." He sighed. "I know you don't love either of us, but if you want to return to your Skinner, the man that you _do_ love, you're going to need help in this… And I still love you, even after what you did, and if you're not able to be happy with Skinner, I would rather remain in Hell than know that."

"James, Sherlock," she said. "I trust you both, bit I don't trust myself. I haven't been the most holy example for everyone I've come in contact with. I can't risk your lives, and I can't risk your emotions."

A bright light filled the room and the three had to shield their eyes for fear of blindness. "Angelique," Gabriel said, appearing before them as the light dissipated. "The Lord God has been made aware of your actions in your pursuit of vanquishing the Ripper Demon. Needless to say, he's not entirely pleased."

"I see," she said. She gripped Holmes and Moriarty's hands tightly. "I'm not changing my plan. We're too far into it. Thank you for your concern, though, Gabriel. I appreciate it."

"Angelique, I beg you," he said. "Use Angels to help you."

She stood, pulling Holmes and Moriarty, both of whom looked like they felt like children being ordered about by their governess, up with her. "I will, Gabriel, I promise," she said sweetly. "Which reminds me. I need to talk to Desdemona about the FallenPossessors. Come along, James, Sherlock." She led the men out of the sitting-room and into the bedroom Holmes used to use.

"FallenPossessors?" Gabriel repeated as the door closed. "Angelique! You're going against everything!"

Angelique rolled her eyes and said, "If we ignore him, he should go away after a while. Now listen carefully. I have an idea that would work. But before we can put it into action, we need to get Watson and Mary's help…"

* * *

"Holmes!" Watson said happily when he said Sherlock Holes standing on his doorstep. "Come in, come in! How have you been? I haven't seen you about for a long while."

"I've been well enough, thank you, Watson," Holmes said as he entered the house. He shrugged off his greatcoat and draped it over the back of an empty chair. He turned to his friend. "Watson, there is something of grave importance that I need to speak with you about. It may upset you, but my friend, it needs thorough discussion."

"Good God, Holmes, have you gone and gotten yourself into trouble?" Watson asked, sitting in his usual chair. "The last time you spoke so gravely was when Professor Moriarty was after your blood."

"Moriarty is not after my blood, Watson," Holmes said, calming his tone of voice so as not to worry his friend.

"I should hope not," Watson said. "He's dead."

"Not entirely," Holmes said, taking his seat. Watson raised a curious eyebrow. "He was not completely dead until Kate Bennet, with the aid of a few of her newfound comrades, was able to kill him. Again."

"How is that possible?"

"I would rather not go into the details at the moment, Watson," Holmes replied, tapping his fingertips together. "There is a much more pressing matter. And that is the reason I have returned to London from my retirement. You are aware, avid reader of _The Times_ as you are, that there has been a frightful resurgence of Ripper activity. Every woman in East End, unfortunate or not, is afraid to travel alone after dark. Every woman, I should say, but Kate Bennet. But I will return to that in a moment." He lit his pipe and puffed on it, searching for the appropriate words to convey his situation. "It has been noted, extensively, that Jack the Ripper of 1889 to 1892 has been positively identified as Sir William Gull upon the time of his death. Sir William Gull was murdered in his own home while his entire household was about the house by Kate Bennet."

Watson held up a hand to kindly interrupt. "Holmes," he said, leaning forward. "Who is this Kate Bennet to you? She's a serial poisonress, isn't she?"

"Oh, she dabbles in much more than poisons, Watson," Holmes said. "She a perfectly accomplished murderess. Her career into the profession was launched during the same years of the Jack the Ripper murders. If you recall, no one felt safe even in their own homes at that time in our great nation's history. Is that explanation enough?"

"No, but continue, please."

Holmes nodded. "Now the question remains, if the _real_ Jack the Ripper has been murdered, who is imitating his actions now?" he said thoughtfully. "Especially in the exact modus operandi of Jack the Ripper. The answer is, of course, Sir William Gull."

"Holmes, he's dead!" Watson protested.

"Not completely, Watson," Holmes said lightly. "His soul was granted Demonry upon entering the Gates of Hell. And what else would a Jack the Ripper Demon do but continue his most heinous of crimes but on a larger scale? Does this make sense to you, Watson?"

Watson nodded slowly. "But I fail to see how you deduced this, Holmes," he admitted.

"I didn't, to be perfectly honest with you," Holmes said. "Kate Bennet told me. Which brings me back to the subject of her. Kate Bennet, as you know, is near the top of Scotland Yard's Most Wanted list, and also rumoured to have been murdered before the resurgence of the Ripper activity. It may startle you to know that the woman with whom you fell in love and married is not Mary Morstan."

Watson gave a start and began to protest, but Holmes held up a halting hand. "Let me explain to you the truth, Watson. Mary Morstan when you knew her was Kate Bennet in disguise. She had hoped to use you in order to get closer to me. She lived next-door to us both at the time, but she felt if she were married to you, she could be closer than that. She spent her time split between two aliases and lives. When she wasn't with you, she was at Baker Street, enjoying a battle of wits with myself. That woman, however horrible her crimes may have been, was the most intelligent I have ever met. Her knowledge of folkloric poisons was astounding and her knowledge of Chemistry was admirable.

"But when her supplier was temporarily out of commission to help her, she turned to the agony columns during the time when I was being hunted by Professor Moriarty," Holmes continued, ignoring the look on Watson's face. "I responded to her advertisement and inadvertently launched her career as a murderess, I regret to admit. But what's done is done. I never occurred to me at the time that two women who looked so remarkably like each other such as your wife and the woman on Baker Street would actually be the same woman. Especially when I had spoken to your wife on the sidewalk, then not two minutes later was admitted into Kate Bennet's home by Kate herself.

"The explanation for that is simple, however, Watson. Kate Bennet has several sisters. Four, to be exact. Jane, Elizabeth, Mary and Lydia Bennet were all unmarried at the time and all were willing to help the others in their time of need. Kate called upon Elizabeth, who seemed her living replica. Miss Elizabeth Bennet took Kate's place as Mary Morstan Watson while Kate worked to fulfil the assignment I had put to her, not thinking she would go through with it, as I thought she was Dr. Darcy, the Chemist from Derbyshire and a close family friend to the Bennets. But while Kate was tracking me in my work that brought me all over England, Elizabeth found herself falling in love with you. Therefore, when Moriarty had been disposed of, Elizabeth remained your wife and Kate returned to her ciminalistic ways on Baker Street.

"I had discovered after some time of observing Kate and her possessions that she had committed the crimes to which there was no suspect. I offered her three options to save herself. She could stay where she was and allow herself to be caught, turn herself over to Scotland Yard in repentance, or marry someone and allow him to complete responsibility for her and keep her in his protection. She chose a fourth option of fleeing the country that I did not expect her to utilise. She left a letter addressed to me on her study table. This letter," he said, handing the well-worn letter. Holmes had read it many times since discovering it so many years ago. "Read it. It may give you some insight to the mind of a murderess."

Watson gently pulled the letter from the envelope and unfolded it. _"Dear Mr. Holmes,"_ he read aloud, getting to his feet to pace as he read. _"A number of subjects have been swirling about my mind at dizzying speeds since our conversation earlier this evening. My options that you so plainly and slightly painfully put before me were limited to three. I'm afraid I must take one that you failed to mention until an afterthought. When I complete this letter to you, I will be leaving England, perhaps forever, to live elsewhere. I cannot feel comfortable telling you exactly where. Only know that if you respond to this letter, you must do it before the week is out and send it to the post office. I will retrieve it before my ship sails from London._

"_Holmes, you have altered my life in more ways than either of us would care to admit. For that, I must most humbly thank you. Your peculiar habits, tendencies and thought processes have left their mark on my mind and I doubt until the day I die that I will ever be able to fully comprehend you. But you have given me a gift of knowledge and the thirst for it that will never be satisfied._

"_I will never be satisfied in anything I do, I realise that now as I write to you. But I must try to seek happiness. I had thought of writing a book of my dabblings into criminal activities, as you would call them. My studies would prove to be interesting reading, would you not agree? Whether you agree or not, there is a more pressing matter that I must impose upon you to answer._

"_What was your reasoning in offering your hand? I know you do not believe in love and I cannot fathom why you would offer to marry me if only to protect me from the law. Holmes, by doing that, you have thoroughly confused me. Perhaps that is why I must find my living arrangement outside of England. But whatever the reason, you know my past experiences with men have proven to be heart-breaking and pointless, and therefore, I cannot decide whether you offered in earnest or to mock my pain._

"_I hate to admit to you that the one Mr. Zephyr, the reason you and I met, was in reality Professor Moriarty, but I swear to you that I had no knowledge of that fact until that day at Reichenbach Falls. Had I any prior knowledge of it, I would have never gone through with your assignment. But, as it were, you were the one to send him over the edge of the Falls, for which I'm not entirely sure I am thankful for. I did love him once, Holmes. But, now I'm not entirely certain if I should have loved him so completely._

"_I fear this letter is growing long and tedious. Therefore, I thank you for your time and patience. Until we meet again, Holmes, I am, as I ever was and ever will be, Kathryn Bennet."_ Watson looked up at Holmes, shock written across his face. "This murderess, this foul temptress—this _woman_ was my sweet Mary?"

Holmes nodded. "Yes, Watson," he said. "But now your sweet Mary is Elizabeth Bennet, who is much sweeter in everything she does than Kate could ever dream to be. Even at her genuinely sweetest, Kate was still bitterly harsh. However, there are reasons for that. She was never Kate Bennet in all and complete honesty. Her true name is Angelique. She is an ArchAngel of God's Heaven. Before you begin protesting, allow me to explain. A number of years ago, twenty-seven to be precise, she was forced from Heaven in a Forced Fall from Grace. She had an interesting passing experience with Mr. Dorian Grey, who just recently met his end over a year ago. But she found that she needed to find a life to live peaceably. She found the Bennet family had a six-year-old girl who had died from tuberculosis. So Angelique took Kate Bennet's place and lived her life. Five months ago, Angelique was restored to Grace and Kate Bennet was reported murdered."

"Now, she has come to me with a request," he continued. "She has been commanded by God to destroy the Ripper Demon, but she needed help. So she enlisted mine and that of the Moriarty Demon. We have come through in spades for our part. But there is still more that needs to be done. And we now need your help and Elizabeth's. It will put your wife in danger, but it is for the betterment of mankind. Will you help us?"

"Holmes, what you have laid before me today is mind-boggling," Watson said, returning to his seat. "And what you have asked of me is impossible. I couldn't in good conscious put my wife in danger, whether or not she is the woman she claims to be."

But the door opened suddenly, revealing Mrs. Watson, followed by Angelique. "John, dear," Mrs. Watson said softly. "There's something that I have agreed to do. It will be dangerous, but I must help the woman I grew to love as my sister."

Watson glared at Holmes. "You set your wolf against my lamb while we were in here, didn't you?" he demanded.

"I assure you I had no idea of your wife's visitor being here," Holmes said. "As it were, however, Elizabeth has agreed to our plan. Watson, we will need you there in the case that there are injuries."

Watson sighed, feeling three pairs of eyes on him. "I will be working with Moriarty and Kate Bennet, won't I?" he asked quietly. Holmes nodded. "This will make for a most bizarre account of your adventures, Holmes."

"If it's all the same to you, Doctor," Angelique said, walking into the sitting-room past Elizabeth. "I would prefer it if you wouldn't print this incident. You may record it if you wish, but please, keep it to yourself."

"So, you're Angelique, are you?" Watson asked. She nodded. "How many men did you marry as Kate Bennet?"

"Eight."

"And how many did you murder?"

"Seven."

"And I am the eighth?"

"Yes, sir," she said. "Although were it not for a certain Sir Lucas, I would have had only one husband. But, unfortunately for those seven men, that did not happen as planned."

"Purely out of curiosity, do you remember their names and how you murdered them?" Watson asked as Elizabeth took a seat next to him.

"Of course," Angelique said, sitting beside Holmes. "I poisoned Count Fosco, Walter Hartright, Mr. Wickham, Mr. Collins, and Colonel Fitzwilliam. I garrotted Hawley Griffin. And Sir Percival Glyde was hit by a train."

"How was he hit by the train, Angelique?" Elizabeth asked softly.

"I pushed him."


	31. Chapter XXX

_Chapter Thirty:_

Angelique looked at the seven people in front of her. Three were looking extremely uncomfortable around the other four. "All right," she said. "I know this is an odd situation to find yourselves in. But, trust me, it's for the best. These three, beside you, are what is called, in Heaven, FallenPossessors. What they are, basically, are Possession Spirits that have betrayed their Possession Covenants, not that I have anything against them for that. It gives them what we need from their physical bodies. They're here to protect those still Living. Moriarty will be fine; he's already dead. But you others will need to let them do their job. Especially Elizabeth. _Do not_ fight it." A door opened. "Okay. He's coming. You all know what to do?" They nodded. "Good. Go."

A FallenPossessor possessed Watson, Elizabeth and Holmes and they all took their positions. Elizabeth undressed down to her knickers and crawled into the bed while Angelique strategically arranged her clothing around the room and the men hid in the wardrobe—Holmes—behind the dressing screen—Watson—and on the ceiling—Moriarty, being a Demon, he can do that by melding with the shadows. As the bedroom door opened, Angelique joined Moriarty in the ceiling shadows. _Be strong, Lizzy,_ Angelique said to Elizabeth's thoughts as the Ripper approached the bed.

"Well, what have we here?" he said, his voice sickeningly syrupy. He sat on the edge of the bed and slowly pulled the blanket off Elizabeth, exposing her bare arms and neck as she pretended to be asleep. He pulled out a small knife and contemplated something. "Let's see if you're as unique as your sister, eh, Lizzy?"

Angelique could feel Moriarty shudder with revulsion as the Ripper dragged the blade against Elizabeth's skin, drew blood and began drinking it. The ArchAngel gave Moriarty's hand a gentle squeeze and asked, _Are you all right, James?_

_Did he do that to you?_ he thought back at her, glancing at her, disgust on his face.

She nodded silently, watching the morbid spectacle with grim resolution. When she couldn't stand to watch any longer, she squeezed Moriarty's hand tightly and they left the ceiling and stood on the carpeting between the bed and the bedroom door. "Hello, Jack," Moriarty said evenly. "Long time, no see."

The Ripper stood and turned to face them, a nauseatingly twisted smile carving itself onto his face. "Ah, two lovers reunited," he said. "A Demon and an Angel together to endeavour to destroy me. How disgustingly sweet and joyfully hopeless."

"Your reign of terror ends now," Angelique said, pulling out her bow and readying an arrow. She fired three in succession, each taking a home in the Ripper's chest, but doing little to slow his steady movements towards her and Moriarty. The Ripper threw Moriarty aside and backed Angelique into a wall; the look on his face was almost daring her to try again. But she was far from finished. She sent a thought to her companions, _Now. Do it now!_

Holmes and Watson burst from their hiding places and they, with Moriarty, snuck up behind the Ripper with Angel-blessed rapiers and thrust them through his back, in a perfect triangular formation that would certainly kill any living human being. Unfortunately, this was not the case. The rapiers did not kill the Ripper; they merely went through him. Lamentably, the rapiers continued through him and into Angelique. But they didn't stop when they hit her flesh. They went directly through her and into the wall her back was pressed against, immobilising her. The Ripper laughed maniacally and stepped away from her, saying, "What a shame, Angelique. All your attempts thus far have come to nothing, haven't they?" He turned from her to see the men standing, slightly agitated, there with Elizabeth watching silently from the bed. "What shall I do now to teach you your lesson, Angelique? Hm?"

She didn't answer. He turned back to face her only to see her still attached to the wall but with her ArchAngel's Sword of Fury blazing in her hand. She lifted the blade and with a quick slashing motion, cut him diagonally across the chest. Then, she grabbed his shirt, pulled him closer to her and ran her sword through his stomach, pulling the blade out to her right, slicing him open. _"Requiescat in pace,"_ she hissed as the Ripper turned to ash in her hand. She sighed and slumped against the wall, the rapiers still keeping her in place. Looking down, she realised they were still there and attempted to remove them, but found she couldn't. "Some assistance, please," she said tiredness filtering into her voice.

Moriarty came to her aid and pulled the blades from her. She brushed her hair from her face and sighed, saying, "Well. Good work everyone. I need to get back to Heaven to see the Healer about these gaping holes in my chest. Then I need to see the Angel in Direct Command of Life about a promise I made to a friend for his services. The FallenPossessors will vacate your bodies while you sleep tonight so you won't notice it. Only because it's not the most pleasant sensation." She looked at her tired friends and thought that this moment would more likely than not be the last time she ever saw them. "Good night," she said, then disappeared to Heaven…

* * *

"Here," Angelique said dully. She dropped a large file of paperwork on Desdemona's desk. "The file on Sir William Gull. Also known as Jack the Ripper." Desdemona picked it up and opened it, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open. "Everything's there, Desde. His Life File. His Crime and Sin Report. His _extremely_ thin Good Works Report. His Death Paperwork. His Demonry File. And his Certificate of Vanquishment. All signed and dated appropriately. Don't look so surprised, Desdemona. It's insulting." She turned to leave.

"Angelique, wait!" Desdemona said. The ArchAngel turned back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that you've never fully completed the paperwork before. I'm very impressed, Ange. Really, I am."

Angelique shrugged. "I don't have anything better to do since I've retained my Grace than actually do my paperwork," she said. She sighed and dropped into the unoccupied chair next to Desdemona. "I'm sorry, Desde."

"For what?"

"For never taking the time to know you," she said. "I don't even know your favourite colour."

"Periwinkle."

"Your favourite dish."

"Spaghetti."

"Your favourite season?"

"Angelique, what's your point?" Desdemona asked impatiently. "I have work to do."

"I don't know if you've heard, but I've finally used my Angel's Wish," she said. "I asked the Father if He would make me Mortal."

"I heard. But why are you telling me this?"

"You can find any information on _any_ living Mortal, correct?" Angelique asked earnestly. Desdemona nodded silently. "Will you look up Rodney Skinner, please?"

"Rodney Skinner?" Desdemona repeated. "Skinner. What country?"

"He was born in England."

Desdemona summoned her England filer and pulled open the "S" drawer. "Skinner… Skinner…" she muttered as she quickly flipped through the files. She looked up at Angelique. "He's not here."

"What?" Angelique asked. "Does that mean he's dead?"

"Possibly."

"He had a brother," Angelique said quickly. "Kiyan Skinner. Look for him. Maybe Rodney's file was misplaced into Kiyan's."

"Angelique, there are no Skinners on file," Desdemona said gently. "Now, either he's dead, in which case, go to the Department of the Deceased and inquire, or his name isn't Rodney Skinner."

"Impossible."

"We only have files under their Christian names," Desdemona said. "Now, I really need you to leave, Angelique. I have a lot of work to do with this paperwork you've suddenly handed me." Desdemona turned to work on the paperwork, ignoring Angelique's presence.

Angelique nodded silently and shakily got to her feet. "Impossible…" she breathed as she walked slowly away. "Rodney wouldn't lie to me. Not Rodney…"

"Angelique," Gabriel said, appearing beside her. "I was just speaking to your sister, Angela. She said that either you need to come back to Earth _now_ or to never come back at all."

"Why does she say that?" Angelique asked, still in a slight daze from her recent discovery.

"There's trouble in the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, apparently," Gabriel replied. "Dr. Jekyll's gravely ill with tuberculosis. They need you."

"No, they don't," she whispered. "They're perfect without me. Have them send for Dr. Watson. If he can't help Henry, then he knows of someone who can."

Gabriel grabbed her elbow and stopped her. "How can you say that, Angelique?" he asked. "This small handful of people are your friends. They are the only few who cared about you while you were Fallen. Can you turn your back to them when they need you most?"

"I've caused them nothing but grief, Gabriel," she said. "If I help them now, I may regret it later. I would only go back if I was Mortal. Only then would I be able to fully comprehend loss."

"Angelique, you have, at one time in your existence, lost everything," he said. "You have lost you Grace. You have lost your child. Your newly-acquired father. Your first love. Your innocence from violence. Your true love—you lost him _twice_. The friendships you had are gone. Angelique, you of all Angels, know of loss."

"I know of loss, yes, Gabriel," she said. "But those you listed are losses of intangible thing. I've never experienced the loss of life. At least not the life of someone I loved. I can't help them. I won't."

She continued walking away. "He could _die_, Angelique!" Gabriel called after her.

"I know, Gabriel," she said. "But if the tuberculosis doesn't kill him, something else will." She left very quickly.


	32. Chapter XXXI

_Chapter Thirty-One:_

"Where is she?" he demanded. "You said she would come!"

"Tom, I thought she would to assure him that he has nothing to fear in death," Angela said. "I never thought she completely abandon us!"

"Angela, she doesn't care about _any_ of us," Sawyer said sharply. "She's abandoned us at least three or four times. It's what she does. Lies, cheats, abandons. It's her vicious cycle." A sharp slap rang in the room and Sawyer's left cheek stung bitterly. He looked at Angela in shock. "What…?"

"Don't talk about Angelique in such a manner," she said lowly. "She may be cruel and heartless, but that's because she is an ArchAngel. They have been trained to be that way. They cannot be compassionate, lest they fail to complete their tasks appointed."

"If ArchAngels can't be compassionate, who can?" Sawyer asked, checking his reflection. An angry red handprint was visible on his cheek. Angela never had much of an angry, vengeful sort of attitude, but he was slowly watching it develop in her since she saved Mina from death. He found it rather amusing, actually.

"Guardian Angels can be compassionate," she replied, trying to see his face. She turned him towards her and examined the mark. "Ouch. I really left a mark, didn't I? I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

There was a quick knock and Nemo entered. He had a folded letter in his hand. "Skinner has gone," he said gravely. He held out the letter.

"What?" Angela asked, crossing to him. She took the letter and glanced over it. "Why would he leave? Angelique could be coming. Wouldn't he like to see her?"

"Apparently not," Sawyer muttered, reading the letter over her shoulder. He pointed. "He says so right there. Listen: _Though I know Angela has been trying in earnest to have Angelique come, I could not, in good conscience and clear mind, see her again. I fear the meeting would be quite painless and I would rather not risk it._ He sounds different."

"It sounds like he's afraid he doesn't love her anymore," Angela commented. "But I don't understand how that's possible. They were so happy together."

"Angela," Sawyer said lowly. "He shot her. He left her trapped in an ice cave. While they were 'together,' she slept with me, Moriarty, Jekyll and I want to say Holmes, but that doesn't seem plausible. Theirs was not a perfectly happy relationship."

"How do you know Skinner shot Angelique?" Nemo asked. "She claimed she was not comfortable disclosing that information."

"She talks in her sleep," Sawyer said simply.


	33. Chapter XXXII

_Chapter Thirty-Two:_

Angelique woke to the sound of her name being called sharply. When she opened her eyes, she discovered she was on the floor. She sat up and looked around her. Sawyer and Nemo were glaring down at her from her feet. "Nemo. Sawyer. What—" Sawyer slapped her, cutting her off.

He grabbed her throat and forced her to look at him. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "What more can you take from us? How could you possibly bring us lower?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

Sawyer pulled his gun out, cocked the hammer and pressed the barrel against her temple. "Skinner is gone," he growled. "Disappeared. Because of _you_. Jekyll is almost dead. Because of _you_."

"Are you going to kill an ArchAngel, Sawyer?" she asked. "Go on. I'd _love_ to see you try." She sighed. "I'm sorry, all right? I'm sorry for everything I've done, for everything I've cost you, for everyone I've killed. But it all had a purpose, Sawyer."

"Yeah?" he asked. "What was that?"

"The betterment of humanity," she replied.

He scoffed. "Even you don't believe that," he said.

"Maybe I don't," she said. "But it's what the ArchAngels are taught to say when confronted by angry Mortals. Perhaps it was just the betterment of my situation. You have no idea what I went through before Skinner found me for the League. You have no idea the pain I was forced to endure. I was forgotten by all the Angels of Heaven, save one: your precious Angela, my sister. I was shunned and beaten down by the Mortals among whom I was forced, by my commander, to live. I was forced to become what I was by my commander and by the reaction I felt to learning Moriarty was murdered. My life was never perfect. I made mistakes. I cost innocent people their lives. I forced those I cared about to hate me so they wouldn't get hurt. But when they wouldn't hate me, I tried so hard not to hurt them, but they ended up getting hurt anyway. I was trained to be one of the best ArchAngels in Heaven. I did not accept defeat. But once Fallen, I could do nothing else but accept it. It was difficult. It was painful. I was beaten in everyway imaginable every day of the life I had. I was failing and miserable as a human being and I hated it. I wanted it to end. But then Skinner returned to my life, and I had a little bit of happiness for a little while. Then he shot me. And I knew at that moment, I had lost him forever. I may have regained him a little, but I would never have him completely returned to me." She took a deep breath, then continued, "So, go ahead, Sawyer, shoot me through my brains. Put me out of my misery. I don't deserve to become a Mortal woman so I can lead a normal life without the pressure of having the Devil breathe down the back of my neck. I don't deserve any good thing this world can offer me. But, if you can find it in your heart, find Skinner and tell him what I've told you. Tell him I love him and would never abandon him the way he thought I had. Then tell him how you shot me through the head. I'm sure he'll love that."

Sawyer pressed the pistol harder against her head. Then he pulled it away and let it fall to his side. "Get out of here," he muttered. "I never want to see your face again." He turned abruptly and left.

"Could he have actually hurt you, Angelique?" Nemo asked.

"No," she whispered. "But I wish he could have."

* * *

Angelique sat silently in her quarters, waiting for a response on the two requests she had made. Her request for Mortality was currently being reviewed for approval by the Lord. Her second request was to the head of the Department of the Deceased on reviving the dead Professor Moriarty. The latter's results returned first. A young Angel, Anali, walked cautiously into the room and said, "Your request to return the late Professor Moriarty to Life in return for his services to our Lord by way of assisting in the disposal of the Jack the Ripper Demon has been granted. Professor Moriarty will be returned to Life when the time is one o'clock am in London, England. At said time, he will be returned to the last habitable location he was in: Kenya, Africa. Have a nice day, Angelique." Anali left the room, shutting the door tightly behind her.

Angelique let out the breath she had been unconsciously keeping in. "Well, I hope _he's_ happy now," she muttered.

The door opened again several minutes later. "Angelic?"

"Gabriel."

The ArchAngel nodded and entered the room, gently shutting the door behind him. "The Lord Father has requested your presence immediately, Angelic," he said quietly.

She nodded and crossed to the door. But he didn't move. "Gabriel?" she asked softly. "Are you all right?" He didn't respond. "Gabriel."

His eyes met hers and she could see an unfamiliar pain in them. "Good luck," he whispered. "Angelique…" He quickly walked away from her.

"Gabriel?" she called after him. "Gabriel!"

"Leave him be, Angelique," a voice said behind her. "For whatever reason, he's in pain."

She turned and saw another ArchAngel standing nearby. "It doesn't make sense, Michael," she said quietly. "Why would he feel pain?"

"You're not the only ArchAngel to have emotions, Angelique," Michael said, taking her arm and guiding her towards God's Chamber. "He feels everything that you can though he never Fell. Come along. Our Father is waiting."

Moments later, Angelique stood before the Lord and bowed deeply to Him. "Father," she murmured. "You sent for me?"

_Yes, Angelique. After much consideration of the Work you have done since your restoration to Grace, I have decided to allow your Angel's Wish be granted._

Angelique smiled warmly. "Thank you, Father," she said.

_But it comes with no small price._

"I understand."

A woman walked out of the dim shadows of the Lord's Chamber. It was Ana Pryde. "Hello, Angelique," she said.

"Ana Pryde."

_You must live your mortality with Ana Pryde within your soul. Without her, you would not be a true mortal woman, Angelique. She is your other half and she completes you._

"I understand, my Lord," Angelique nodded. She held her hand out and Ana Pryde pressed her own against it. Then Angelique felt the most excruciating pain she had ever felt in her entire existence. There were no words to describe it. Compared to this sensation of pain, the transformations into Ana Pryde that she suffered were merely like Skinner tickling her. When Ana Pryde had finished fusing herself into Angelique's soul, the ArchAngel stood panting for breath, her hands grasping her sides tightly.

_You will be taken by Michael to your mortal residency, Angelique. There, the process will be completed and you will no longer be my ArchAngel, but a mortal servant amongst so many in the world. Fare you well. And good luck._

Michael took Angelique's hand. When he released it, they were standing in the sitting-room of her Baker Street home. "This is where I leave you, Angelique," Michael said gravely, then disappeared.

She heard a noise coming from the bedroom and quietly left to investigate. Opening the door, she discovered Gabriel leaning against the footboard of the bed, turning a silver-handled blade in his hands. "Gabriel?" she asked softly, crossing the distance between them. He didn't look at her. She slid her hands up his shoulders, one to his neck, and leaned in to kiss him. Then she stopped herself. "Forgive me, Gabriel. Ana Pryde holds an influence on me stronger now than when she was free."

"Forgive me, Angelique," he whispered. Then he plunged the knife into her stomach, muttering, "What was done, now undo. Turn her to the form that's true." He took the knife out of her stomach. She gasped in pain. She stumbled away from him a few steps and held her stomach tightly as blood oozed between her fingers. "Forgive me," he whispered again. Then he was gone.

She managed to stumble to the vanity. But when she reached for the topmost drawer, she collapsed and saw no more.


	34. Chapter XXXIII

_Chapter Thirty-Three:_

When she woke, Kathryn vaguely could see the silhouette of a man, slightly slumped over, in the padded armchair beside her bed. His hand rested on the edge of the edge, threatening to drop off at any moment. She hesitantly reached out and touched his hand. It was warm and he shivered at her touch. Gently, she squeezed his hand, hoping to wake him. On her second attempt, his head shot up and he spoke, "Angelique? Are you all right?"

It was Sherlock Holmes. She smiled softly. "Never better, Mr. Holmes, I assure you," she replied. "Thank you for your concern."

"I found you one morning," he said quickly. "You had been stabbed in the stomach by a strong-handled knife. But you were alive. I sent for Watson and he was able to stitch your flesh back together. But it's healing slowly. Very unlike an ArchAngel would heal. Are you all right?"

"ArchAngel?" she repeated. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't remember?"

She sat up and rubbed her head. A sharp headache was growing quickly. "Remember what, exactly, Mr. Holmes?" she asked. "I remember Mr. Skinner walking away from us as we attempted to apprehend Jack the Ripper. Then I remember coming home. Locking the front door. Then turning around in the darkness of my study and felt a cold blade in my stomach." She shook her head. "What do you need me to remember? And why did you call me Angelique?"

He stared at her for a moment. Then he shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "Will you excuse me for a moment?" She nodded and he left the room. But the door didn't shut completely and she could hear him speaking with someone in the hall. "She can't remember being an ArchAngel."

"Can she remember anything at all?"

"She knows her name is Kathryn, and she knows that she's done terrible things, I'm certain," Holmes said. "But she knows nothing of her peculiar way of life."

There was a brief pause of silence. "Then it is as I expected," the stranger, a woman, replied. "She is Mortal. When she is healed enough, bring her to Henry. He's been calling for her to come."

"Of course, Angela," Holmes replied. "Good day." A door opened and shut in the distance and Angelique could hear him sigh.

Then another door opened and shut in the distance—possibly the same door, Kathryn couldn't be certain—and a man demanded, "Where is she, Holmes?"

"She's in bed," Holmes said calmly. "Where else would she be? She's extremely ill, Moriarty, let her alone."

"I want to see her!"

"You can't see her. She needs her rest."

"But you're able to see her, is that it?" Moriarty demanded. "Deny me the same pleasure of speaking with the woman I love that you so freely enjoy?"

"Precisely."

"I thought I was cruel."

"You thought correct. You merely misjudged my cruelty."

Kathryn slowly pulled herself out of the bed and pulled on a nearby robe. Briefly checking her reflection in the vanity mirror, her eyes caught sight of a pure black rose perfectly preserved in a glass case set against the glass of the mirror. _My love for you will die only when this rose wilts…_ The words formed in her memory. They were not spoken by anyone she knew to be living. Shaking her head from confusion and misplaced memories, Kathryn walked to the bedroom door and opened it, revealing her presence to the two quarrelling men. "Gentlemen," she said softly. "Will one of you be so kind as to explain to me what has happened to me? I remember precious little."

Holmes and Moriarty turned to face her with surprise written on their faces. "Kathryn," Holmes said gently, taking her arm in hand and politely guiding her back into her bedroom and over to the bed. "You ought to be in bed; you need your rest. Come now, don't be difficult." She had been pulling against his firm grip, trying to get to Moriarty.

"James," she whispered, finally freeing herself from Holmes' gentle clutches. She latched onto Moriarty's jacket lapels and looked him deep in the eye. "Tell me honestly. What's going on?"

"Kitty," he said, his hands finding her waist and giving her gentle support. "You were accidentally injured in a fight against Jack the Ripper. You were stabbed in the stomach, see, there?" He lifted her shift a little to expose her bandaged midsection. "You were lucky enough that Holmes stumbled upon you after he heard the commotion from his flat next-door." With her still maintaining eye contact, Moriarty was able to subtly guide Kathryn back to the bed. "He sent for Dr. Watson immediately and you've been here, healing, since. Any other questions, love?"

"What did Holmes mean when he said the term 'ArchAngel'?" she asked, thinking quickly back to her brief conversation with the consulting detective that occurred as soon as she had woken. "He said it in reference to me."

She could see Moriarty was thinking quickly; his eyes were darting back and forth between Kathryn and Holmes. "My dear," he said gently. "This may come as a shock to you, but you are—excuse me—_were_ an ArchAngel of God. You lived for many, many years on earth as a FallenAngel until nearly a year ago when you were returned your Grace. A few months ago, you were given the task of vanquishing the Jack the Ripper Demon and you asked for the help of Holmes and myself. It was shortly after that that you had been injured by the Ripper in his last furious act of revenge before disappearing completely. According to Angela, your Guardian Angel sister, you've been made Mortal, as a direct result of your Work in vanquishing the Ripper Demon; it was a gift to you from God."

Kathryn stared at Moriarty. "Now I know you're lying," she said, slurring her words slightly. She was feeling a little light-headed and weak on her feet. "There's no possible way for that to be even _remotely _true. Nice try, Moriarty." She turned and looked at Holmes. "Holmes, tell me the truth. Now."

Holmes looked at her glumly, fingering the edge of his waistcoat's pocket absently. "The truth, Kathryn," he began, taking a breath. "Is exactly as Moriarty has told you. As near as we have been able to deduce, at least. I'm sorry I can't give you more information."

She looked between Holmes and Moriarty for a few moments. Then she silently walked away from both of them to her wardrobe and pulled the doors open. She quickly selected a black dress she hadn't worn in a while, hastily pulled it on and did up the buttons in the back, ignoring the men.

Abandoning any thought of properly clothing herself to aid her recovery, Kathryn left, barefoot, and headed directly to Harley Street. It had rained recently and, quite soon, the hems of her skirt were soaked and dripping with the filthy rainwater, mud caking her feet and splashing up her ankles. Holmes and Moriarty made no move to follow her, knowing full well, possibly, where she was going.

When she was three houses away from Jekyll's, she broke out in a run and hurried to the front door. Rather than knock and wait to be let inside, Kathryn turned the handle to find the door securely locked. Slipping a hair pin out of her imperfect hair, she bent and used it to pick the lock. Happily discovering she still maintained certain skills, she unlocked the front door and walked in to the house, coming across Sawyer first in the entrance hall.

"Angelique?" he said upon seeing her. She had expected him to be angry with her as he had been before, but rather than yell or shout at her, he quickly crossed to her and pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're here. Angela said that you had been injured. Are you all right?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Mr. Sawyer," she lied, ignoring the throbbing pain in her stomach and deciding to ignore the fact that he called her Angelique; she assumed it was her ArchAngel name. "Where's Dr. Jekyll?" Sawyer led her upstairs to Jekyll's room. "Thank you, Mr. Sawyer." Leaving him in the hall, Kathryn quietly pushed the bedroom door open and walked inside.

Mina was sitting in a chair beside the bed, her head in her hands. She looked up when Kathryn closed the door. She looked absolutely horrible. Judging solely by the state of her appearance, her hair hadn't been brushed in several days, she hadn't slept; there were bags under her eyes and a worn haggard look about her. "Angelique," she said, whispering and getting to her feet. She walked over to Kathryn and hugged her tightly.

Kathryn was shocked by all the affection she was receiving from the very people she thought hated her. When Mina released her from the hug, she smiled briefly before Mina's face acquired a nasty expression and the Vampiress slapped her soundly across the face. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you, Wilhelmina Jekyll?" Kathryn demanded.

"How _dare_ you come here," Mina growled. "You are _disgusting_. You are filth. You are a _plague_ to this League; you have done nothing but hurt them. You have no right to be here!"

"Mina…" Jekyll said, whispering hoarsely. "Let her stay."

Glaring fiercely at Kathryn, Mina stepped aside to allow her to walk to her invalid husband. "Dr. Jekyll, I'm here," Kathryn said, gently taking his hand. "What do you need?"

"I know I haven't been completely fair to you for the duration of our extremely tumultuous friendship," he began, coughing a bit, "but I need you to grant me a favour. I need you to send for my Guardian Angel."

"That's all you want?" she asked. He nodded. "Why not just ask Angela?"

"She's not welcome in Heaven," Mina said, entering the conversation to remind Kathryn that she was still in the room.

"Well, neither am I," she replied, releasing Jekyll's hand. "Mortality makes it rather difficult to go into Heaven. Angela!" Within moments, the Fallen Guardian Angel appeared in the doorway. "He wants his Guardian Angel."

Angela looked confused. "She abandoned him," she said. But seeing Jekyll could not be deterred, Angela sighed and walked over to the vanity and whispered to the mirror.

Immediately, an Angel stepped through the mirror and gently floated to the ground. "Right," Kathryn said. "As I can be of no more assistance to you, I'll be off. Angela. Desdemona." The Angel and the FallenAngel nodded to her. She walked to the door. "Dr. and Mrs. Jekyll." Then she left, setting immediately out for home, where she interrupted Holmes and Moriarty in deep conversation, puffing away on their pipes in the sitting-room. "Pack your bags. Both of you," she said briskly. "We're going to Derbyshire." She left the sitting-room and went to her bedroom to pack.

The men followed her. "What on earth for?" Moriarty asked.

"Kathryn, you need to rest and heal," Holmes said. "You can't go running about the country until you've healed properly."

"Nevertheless," she said, throwing clothing into her carpet-bag haphazardly. We're going to Derbyshire to look for Skinner. That's where I met him. No, go pack."

She didn't see Holmes and Moriarty exchange looks, but she did hear Holmes say, "Well then. Why don't we stop by Longbourne for a few days on our way to Derbyshire? You could see Jane and your mother."

"Why on _earth_ would I want to see that woman?" Kathryn demanded, looking at the men. "I admit that I miss Jane terribly, but I have no desire to see Mrs. Bennett. She's a witch in the disguise of a stress-filled mother." She returned to packing her carpet-bag. "No, we'll be completely passing Longbourne on our way to Derbyshire."

An hour later, Kathryn met Holmes in the entrance hall, with the carriage Moriarty sent for waiting outside on the street. Moriarty had decided that he had better stay at Baker Street to keep an eye on things while Holmes and Kathryn were gone. They climbed into the carriage after handing their luggage to the driver, whom Holmes spoke to before entering the carriage himself. Within minutes, they were on their way to Derbyshire.

Sometime later, Kathryn hadn't quite been paying attention to the time, the carriage came to a stop and she looked out the window then glared at Holmes. "I told you we weren't coming here," she said lowly.

"I know," he replied, climbing out of the carriage. "But you need to see them." He held out his hand for hers. Still glaring at Holmes, Kathryn, taking his hand, climbed out of the carriage. "Be pleasant, Kathryn. Remember—you miss your family."

Hitching a fake-happy smile to her lips, Kathryn muttered, "Sometimes, I really do hate you."

"I know," he muttered in return, taking her arm and escorting her toward the large house of her father, Longbourne. "But I'm sure, in time, you'll learn to forgive me."

"Kitty!" Kathryn and Holmes looked up from their muted conversation to see a rather stress-ridden older woman running out of the house toward them. It was Mrs. Bennett. "Kitty, you're alive!" Mrs. Bennett collapsed onto Kathryn's shoulders in a hug. "Oh, thank goodness! Mr. Holmes—" she looked up at Holmes "—you told us in your letter that she had been killed."

"I beg your forgiveness, madam," he replied, bowing slightly to Mrs. Bennett. "But I simply reported what had been told to me. I was not present to witness what had happened. A thousand apologies."

Mrs. Bennett looked at him sternly. "You are forgiven," she said, smiling. She latched onto Kathryn's arm. "Now, Kitty, come in and see your sisters. Jane has been utterly distraught since we thought you were dead. Lydia's been in a fit; you heard her husband was murdered then convicted of the Jack the Ripper crimes, I'm certain. How could you not?"

"Your family is rather much a mess," Holmes whispered to Kathryn. She discreetly pinched him, silently telling him to be quiet.

"Of course, not all our news is distressing," Mrs. Bennett continued as thought she hadn't noticed Holmes and Kathryn's short interchange. "Mary has found herself a good man. They were married last month and are here visiting. Mary! Mary, bring your husband out to meet your sister who is returned to us!" Mrs. Bennett looked directly at Kathryn. "I rather think you will like him, Kitty."

"Mama," Kathryn said, ignoring Holmes who was gently tugging on the waist of her greatcoat. "I really would rather you stop calling me that. I'm not a little girl anymore. Please, call me Kate." Growing impatient with the tugging, Kathryn spun around to face Holmes. "Is there something you needed, Mr. Holmes?" He cupped her chin in his hand and gently turned her head to force her to look toward the house. "Bloody hell!"

"Kate!" Mrs. Bennett reprimanded her.

"Bloody hell…" Kathryn repeated, quieter. Standing next to her older sister, Mary, in front of the house, wearing the clothing of a respectable gentleman was a one Mr. Rodney Skinner. Kathryn turned to speak directly to Holmes. "Let's go," she said. "Now."

"Now, Kathryn, you need to spend time with your _family_," he responded gently.

"No," she growled. "We've found what we were looking for and so now we can be off."

"At least stay for an hour or two," Holmes insisted. "For Jane's sake."

"Well, in _that_ case, why don't we just stay long enough for me to kill him?" she hissed. "My train case is packed with enough poisons to do the job quickly."

"Kathryn Anne Bennett," he hissed back at her, none too gently. "You are not going to kill anyone in your mother's house! Now, get your beautifully deceiving self over there and speak to them!" He turned her towards the house and gave her a gentle push.

Mrs. Bennett quickly latched back onto Kathryn's arm. "Kate, this is Mr. Rodney Skinner," she said, dragging Kate over to Mary and Skinner. "He works for the government."

"You don't say," Kathryn muttered.

"What was that, dear?"

"Nothing, Mama," she replied, smiling falsely. "I was merely remembering that Mr. Skinner and I have met before."

"_Have_ you? Oh, that's wonderful!" Mrs. Bennett cried when they reached Skinner and Mary. "I'll just leave you all to get reacquainted, shall I?" Then she bustled off into the house.

"Mary," Kathryn said, nodding to her sister. "Skinner." Then, without hesitation, she balled up her fist and, with great force and anger, she connected her fist with his nose. "Good to see you both again. Now, if you'll excuse me." She walked around her sister and toward the front door.

"Now, wait a moment, Kate," Mary said. Kathryn stopped and turned to look back. Mary walked towards her. "I'm a married woman now. You have to enter after me."

"Mary, I've been married more times than you can count," Kathryn spat back at her. "So, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go inside before you and Mr. Skinner. Mr. Holmes!"

Holmes hurried to Kathryn's side and whispered to her, "You could have _tried_ to be a bit more pleasant, Miss Bennett."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Holmes," she replied lightly. "That _was_ as pleasant as I could manage."


	35. Chapter XXXIV

_Chapter Thirty-Four:_

Dinner that night was uncomfortable and strained. At least as far as Skinner had noticed. Mary and Kate said nothing the entire meal and glared at each other. Jane was silent for the most part, only occasionally answering her mother who had been chatting animatedly with Holmes, who, in his turn, kept tapping on the table top beside his plate in various patterns. Kate, Skinner noticed, was glancing at Holmes' dancing fingers and would occasionally tap her fingers whenever Holmes would stop. Skinner could only assume they were speaking to each other in Morse Code.

All Skinner could think of during the course of the meal was what possible punishments Kate could have been concocting for him. He knew that the bruised nose she gave him couldn't be all she was planning for him. The injury he paid her was catastrophic in retrospect. Marrying her sister was basically the worst thing he could have done to her. He saw her murder people for much less than that. And he was scared out of his mind.

After dinner, Kate complained of a headache and excused herself to bed. Holmes on the other hand, made his way to the library and sat down to read. Skinner followed him in hopes of getting any information about Kate out of him. "Mr. Holmes," he said, pouring himself a brandy. He sat in a winged armchair across from Holmes.

"Mr. Skinner," Holmes replied without looking up from his book. The two men sat in silence for several minutes before Holmes said, "I don't know what exactly you had with Miss Bennett, but your marriage to her sister has insulted her beyond all compare. You ought to watch your back."

"So, she's planning on killing me, then?" Skinner asked, trying to remain calm. But his hands shook.

"The thought had crossed her mind," Holmes answered, closing his book. "After all, when an ArchAngel willing surrenders their Grace to become Mortal for the sake of the one they love, they tend to lose their temper when they've discovered that the one they love has decided to love someone else entirely. You would do well to be on your guard. Do not seek her out to explain yourself. Do not seek her out to apologise. Do not seek her out to make your excuses. She doesn't want to hear it."

"I suppose she told you this," Skinner said softly, his fear and dread growing.

Holmes nodded. "During dinner," he said. "You'll find that Kate and I have the odd habit of communicating through Morse Code during dinner. You should know she is furious with you. She feels utterly and entirely betrayed." He stood and, leaving his book on his chair, left the library.

After waiting a moment to make sure Holmes wouldn't return, Skinner stood and looked at the book the consulting detective was reading: The Study of a Peculiar Mind by Sherlock Holmes. Flipping through it, his eyes caught a passage. Pausing, he read through it, his eyes growing wide. "Holy… shit," he muttered, dropping the book.

Five minutes later, Skinner found himself standing outside Kate's room, something urging him to go inside. When he noticed one of the maids walking down the hall, directly towards him, he turned Invisible, extending his Invisibility to his clothing, a skill he had perfected without Mary's knowledge, and hoped that she was heading towards Kate's room. She stopped beside him and knocked softly on the door, inches from his arm. "Begging your pardon, Miss," the maid said, holding out fresh linens for the basin. Skinner quickly ducked under the maid's outstretched arms and into the room.

"The ones I have will suit me just fine, thank you," Kate said sharply, shutting the door on the maid. She muttered something under her breath and walked to the window, pulling her dressing gown tightly about her shoulders.

Skinner watched her as she soundlessly and motionlessly stared out the window for ten or more minutes until a second knock at the door was heard. The door opened without Kate's permission and Holmes entered, shutting the door silently behind him. "He's read it, Kate," he said gently. "The passage you wanted him to read; he's read it. He knows what you're capable of." He crossed to her side. "Are you all right?"

"What streak of madness lies inside of me?" she whispered, still keeping her gaze out the window. "What is the truth my fears conceal? What evil force makes Ana Pryde of me? What darker side of me does she reveal? What is this strange obsession that's tearing me apart? This strange, deranged expression of what's in my heart." She looked up at Holmes. "Am I the girl that I appear to be? Or am I someone I don't know? I feel some monster drawing near to me, becoming clear to see… Will what I fear to be… be so?"

"Kathryn, listen to me," Holmes said, taking her shoulders in his hands. "You are as you always have been. Ana Pryde is nothing to fear. She is the darker side of your existence and without her, you are not whole. Without her, you are not real."

"I don't feel real," she said. "I can't remember anything of being an Angel. I can barely remember why I hate Mary. I can hardly remember why I loved Skinner. Or James. Or you." She rubbed her face. "I feel so empty right now."

"Kathryn, it will all be all right, you'll see," Holmes said, reaching to pull her into a hug.

She pushed him away. "You don't understand!" she cried. "I can't win! I am what I am because I am what you and James have made me to be! I am a result of society's restrictions. Women aren't allowed to have minds of our own. And when we do, we're shunned from polite society. We have no options; we have no freedoms; we have no future to speak of! You—men are able to go to college to broaden your knowledge to pursue a career and make yourselves happy with all you have accomplished. All we can call accomplishments are the fine arts—piano, painting, singing, needlework, cards, reading. But when any one of us—me, Mina, Elizabeth—attempt to make something of our talents, we are hunted down like diseased stray cats!" She sighed. "There is no justice in this world," she muttered.

It seemed Holmes almost allowed himself to smile. "Of course there is no justice," he replied, crossing to her side. He gently held her, his chin resting on her shoulder. "If there were, you would be dead."

"I'm well aware of that fact," she said briskly. "I'm also quite certain we are leaving for London in the morning, whether Mr. Skinner has come to his senses or not. I cannot stand to be in this house a moment longer. Beside the fact that you and I need to return to work. We've received a new case, have we not?"

"Ah, yes," Holmes said, releasing Kate and pulling a letter from his pocket. "The death of Lady Laura Glyde. According to the letter from the poor Lady's sister—" he opened the letter and read from it "—the circumstances surrounding the so-called 'accident' are suspicious and Miss Halcombe—the sister—wishes us to investigate the late Sir Percival Glyde and his friend and business partner, the late Count Fosco."

"So many dead persons involved in this case, Holmes," Kate said, draping her dressing gown across the back of the chair by the fireplace, leaving her to walk about the room in her shift, bloomers and corset as she readied for bed. Skinner could feel his cheeks flush with the memory of how she made him feel in the past. Then guilt quickly bubbled over the current lust as he remembered how he had betrayed her love for him. "Lady Glyde perished nearly seven years ago. Why is Miss Halcombe pressing us to investigate?"

"Perhaps because she needs to feel justified for hating two dead men," Holmes replied, returning the letter to his pocket and removing his jacket. The two readied for bed in silence while Skinner pondered their relationship. They were too comfortable with each other to be merely neighbours or business partners or even close friends. He thought perhaps they had been more than dearest friends to each other in their past. Kate was promiscuous enough for it. Pushing the thoughts out of his mind, Skinner silently slipped out of the bedroom.

* * *

Suddenly, Holmes turned to face Kate while standing in his trousers and undershirt. He scrutinised her while she drew a brush through her golden brown curls. She looked into the mirror before her and saw him watching her. Setting down her brush, she said, "What is it, Holmes?"

He walked over to her and leaned on the back of her chair. "Your family was close to the Fairlies, weren't they?" he asked. She nodded and picked up her brush. "So it would stand to reason that your mother would know of any daughters or nieces Mr. Fairlie would have, am I correct?" Again, she nodded. "Then why is it as she prattled mindlessly on throughout dinner that she failed to recall any such sisters as Laura Fairlie and Marian Halcombe?"

"She is an old woman, Holmes," Kate said, dismissing the query lightly, setting her brush on the vanity once again. "Perhaps she merely forgot about their existence."

Holmes crossed around Kate and knelt beside her, taking her hands in his. "Kate, I want you to be honest with me now," he said softly and gently, but still with an air of seriousness about his tone. "Are you Lady Laura Glyde?"

Instinctively, her eyebrow arched in surprise. "Mr. Holmes, are you accusing me of assuming an alias to, for whatever reason, align myself with a baronet?" she asked. He didn't respond. "I will take your silence as a confirmation of my question. Now, to what point and purpose would it serve me to create two women, marry a man, kill him, marry his friend, kill _him_, and stage my death, when neither man really made much money to their names and they really were only con artists?"

"Honestly," he replied, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "I have never attempted to fathom your thoughts." He gently kissed her cheek, stood and walked to the bed, where he turned back to look at her. "My offer from years ago still stands, Kate." He turned out his lamp and climbed into the bed.

Kate sat at the vanity for a moment or two, contemplating what had just happened. She felt a storm of emotions whirling inside her. Sighing softly, she turned out her own lamp and carefully walked to the bed without tripping over anything that she couldn't see in the darkness of the room. She paused at the edge of the bed before slipping under the covers and laid close to Holmes, her head resting on his shoulder as she said, "I know. Good night, Sherlock."


End file.
